


Sated

by JamienGrey



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Falling In Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamienGrey/pseuds/JamienGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Bruce have a moment after the battle is over. It leads to something more. Super family sorta, eventual TonyxBrucexLoki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony grunted as he was shoved up against a coarse brick wall, and again when his shirt was forced up and his skin bared to the rough stone. It turned into a moan though when Bruce dropped to his knees and jerked his pants down, exposing hardened flesh and taking it into his mouth in one smooth motion. Tony doubled over at the sensation and couldn't contain the near shout of pleasure when he felt Bruce's throat constrict around him. The kneeling man hummed around him eagerly, using hands and tongue and even slight graze of teeth to make Tony gasp and his eyes roll back in his head. He was so close even from so little attention, lingering adrenaline high from the battle, and nearly dying, making him come to his peak more quickly than he'd care to admit. "Bruce, I'm gonna-" he got out, before nails scraped over his ass and down the back of his thighs, sending him over the edge. His head snapped back, hips canting forward, both hands tangled in peppered hair as he forced himself a far as possible down Bruce's throat, the scientist taking it in stride, even giving his own groan of need.

He was still shaking with aftershocks when he was forcefully turned around, gasping when he felt Bruce spread him and push two fingers inside, slicked solely with saliva, working him open quickly, expertly finding his sweet spot and stroking him until he began to harden again. Then he took his fingers away and was pushing inside in earnest, gripping the other man's hip hard enough to bruise. Tony grit his teeth, breathing shallowly. Under other circumstance he's sure this would hurt too much to be enjoyable, but Bruce doing it made everything feel amazing. He pushed back, meeting the snap of hips, small moans forced out between breaths. A hand entered his line of sight when Bruce braced himself against the wall, bent over Tony's back, small puffs of breath against his skin sending shivers down his spine. "Fuck, Bruce, more," he ground out, gripping onto the arm near his face.

"More what," he gasped with a rough laugh, the first words he'd spoken since dragging Tony out the back door of the shawarma shop.

Tony whimpered like a horny teenager at the sound of his voice. "Everything, harder, faster, more skin." He was cut off by Bruce pulling away a whipping him around. He hefted him up against the wall and hooked an arm under each tight, slamming back inside the squirming genius. Tony clung to him desperately, grinding down, impaling himself even as Bruce pounded roughly into him, taking Tony's request for 'harder' to heart.

He grabbed a handful of curls at the back of his neck, pulling in warning. "Close," he gasped.

"Me too," he answered, hands tightening around Tony's thighs. He came to the feeling of Bruce's teeth sinking into his shoulder, cries out sharply. He writhed and twisted in the scientists hands, scraping his back on the wall to match the rough nail tracks that would be on Bruce's. Sensory overload set in from the feel of panting against his neck hitched, small desperate moans and deep-seated heat inside signaling Bruce's release. The cherry on top was when his knees buckled and he slid to the ground, arms wrapping around Tony and carefully pulling him away from the wall so he wasn't hurt further.

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped around each other while they caught their breath, until the sound of someone clearing their throat told them they'd been found.

Clint stood about twenty feet away, near the end of the alley. "Not that I disapprove, you two put on a pretty good show actually, but we have work to do." He chucked a grey military blanket at Bruce. "Not to mention Steve's looking for you." Then he turned on his heal and walked away.

They stared after him for a moment, then turned and looked at each other, each waiting for someone to move. Bruce laughed first, then shifted Tony so they could both stand on still shaky legs. He pulled on the tatters of his pants and wrapped the blanket over his shoulders, more to hide the evidence of their actions then for any sort of modesty, and watched while tony redressed as well. They gave each other one last knowing look before turning and wandering side by side out of the alley mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn't speak of it. Not for a few days at least. And that worried Bruce. Not that he wasn't thankful, if it were up to him he'd choose not to address it, ever, but it was strange for Tony. Self proclaimed playboy, Bruce had anticipated bragging or teasing of some sort, dirty whispers just to make him blush in front of others, but nothing. They went through everything like it hadn't happened, the clean up, the debriefings, even up until they sent Loki back, there was no mention of it. Clint knew, obviously, but kept his mouth shut, only ocassionally shooting them amused smirks. He'd clearly told Natasha though, they told each other everything, but you wouldn't be able to tell from her usual deadpan expression. Nobody was saying anything, and Bruce was inclined to leave it that way.

It was a pointless inclination.

As soon as they were alone in his private elevator, just having returned from the sendoff, Tony spoke. "So, I know I promised you candy land, but R&D is all shut down until the construction is complete." He heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "I guess we'll just have to share my personal lab in the mean time. Not that its not big enough for-"

"Tony."

"-two. It'll be fun, you can help me with-"

"Tony."

"-the Mark VIII. What?"

"It can't happen again."

Tony stared at him blankly for a moment, then a line appeared between his brows in a small scowl. "Why not?"

"Because I-"

"Can't control yourself? You did just fine the other day. Still got the bruises and scrapes to prove it."

"That was different," he sighed, tone rueful.

"How?" Tony snapped.

"Because I had just let him out, he was tired, I didn't have to worry about him. It's like he sleeps after being out for a while." He scrubbed a hand through his hair then, finally making eye contact with Tony. "Under normal circumstances its just not something I can do."

"So you can't have sex unless you let the big guy out to play for a while first. I can work with that."

Bruce sighed. "You realize how rare that is, right?"

Tony shrugged. "Like I said, I can work with it. Plus, now I have the perfect reason for provoking you." The elevator finally came to a stop then, door opening to the wreckage of the penthouse.

Perfect timing, Bruce thought to himself. "This is what happens when I'm provoked, Tony," he gestured at the rubble, eyes landing on the Loki sized dent in the floor. "Even with your money, it seems like a bit too much hassle just for a good lay."

Tony laughed as he poured himself a glass of amber liquid. "You don't give yourself enough credit doc, good is a gross understatement." He eyed Bruce over the rim of his glass, watching as he aimlessly circled the ruined floor, frowning from what was undoubtedly a very negative train of thought. "Fine, I wont provoke you, just quit looking like a kicked puppy."

Bruce's eye jerked up from the floor. "If Loki had been human he'd be dead," he said, changing the subject quick enough to startled even Stark. "I can't let that happen Tony. I can barely stomach killing strangers, I don't know what I'd do if I killed someone I care about."

"Hulk has more self control than that," Tony said dismissively.

"Tony, please," Bruce pleaded. "I can't trust him that much. If you don't understand that then I don't think I can live here." His eyes held a small desperate glint. He didn't want to leave, he was so tired of running, but he wouldn't risk hurting anyone, especially not Tony.

He set his glass down then and walked over to Bruce, grabbing the shorter man by the shoulders and turning him, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. "I understand," he said firmly, "and I can live without sex," bringing his hands up to cradle Bruce's face. "But I don't just want sex," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Bruce tensed in anticipation, but it stayed just an innocent kiss, a press of warm lips against his. And he relaxed, allowing himself to move with it, just a little, sighing into it.

Then Tony pulled away, taking a full step back. Bruce held his breath. "Think you can manage dating?"

He stared with wide eyes, reminding himself to breath after a moment. What just happened ran through his head. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I can manage that."

Tony's smile was dazzling, bright and real, something all the cameras and tabloids never saw. "Come on," he said, gesturing for Bruce to follow him back to the elevator. "I'll show you our temporary housing, until this floor stops being a wind tunnel at least."

The elevator went down. Bruce, still a little dazed, missed how many floors it dropped. The doors slid open on a long wide hallway. "These are the apartments above my lab," Tony explained, walking out and quickly down the hall. Bruce followed, finding that the hallway opened up to a large common area, open air kitchen to the right, lowered seating area to the left. The wall of windows offered a slightly lower view of the New York skyline. "I'll have Pepper stock it up with groceries next time she shops. Or sends someone to shop. Or orders online. You know, I have no idea how she does it, food just appears. You'll have to let Jarvis know if you want anything specific." He was rambling while Bruce wandered around the area, stopping at the head of a set of spiral stairs. "Those go down to the lab. Good ol' fashioned stairs, I think it gives it a homey touch, don't you?" Tony said, bounding over, already halfway down the spiral before Bruce processed the speed of his words. He followed at a slower pace, smiling to himself. It almost seemed like Tony was nervous.

He ran Bruce through the grand tour of the lab, pointing out all the toys and gadgets, giving a run down of what Jarvis was capable of, showing him the wall of Iron Man suits. He barely stopped long enough between words to get a proper breath. He was in his element, and it was nice to finally have someone there who could fully appreciate it all. Bruce followed him around, giving exclamations at all the right places, nervous fidgeting fading away as he relaxed into Tony's tempo.

They were interrupted about forty five minutes into it, Tony finally stopping to listen to Jarvis explain that Pepper was up in the penthouse looking for them. "Let her know we're down here," Tony called back.

She appeared moments later, strawberry blonde hair perfectly coiffed as she strode across the lab floor. "Hi Bruce," she said, giving him a pleasant smile, then "are you having Jarvis block Fury's calls?" she asked Tony.

"Maybe. Possibly. Yeah, okay, I am. Why?"

"Because he called me. He's not too happy about having to go through a civilian to get to one of his people."

"First of all I'm not one of his people, and you can hardly be called just a civilian. And second, I just saw the guy. What does he want?"

Pepper held out her phone, already having dialed. "I don't know, ask him."

Tony gave the item a loathing look but took it anyway. He knew better than to argue with Pepper about being handed things.

"Miss Potts," Fury answered after a handful of rings.

"Guess again," Tony quipped.

"Stark! Answer your fucking phone."

"Yeesh," he jerked his head away from the phone. "No need to yell. What's going on?"

"I'm sending a car to pick up you and Banner. It'll be there in twenty minutes. And next time you ignore my phone calls I wont be nice and go to Miss Potts. I remember you not liking my drop ins."

"Director, I'm flattered you would take the time," Tony feigned.

He got a scoff in response, followed by a dial tone. He handed the phone back to Pepper. "Jarvis, you better unblock Fury, I'd rather not have him just showing up."

"Of course sir," the AI drawled.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked, wandering closer, hands back to fidgeting.

"Fury's sending a car. Didn't say why. You know, I'm tempted to just blow him off."

Bruce frowned in thought. "That's probably not the best idea. It seems important."

"Well," Pepper said, interrupting whatever Tony had been about to say, "I've still got a ton PR work to do. Let me know how everything goes." Then she leaned in and pecked Tony quickly on the lips before turning on her heel back to the elevator.

She missed Bruce blanch, didn't see the startled widening of his eyes.

"Shit," Tony said as soon as the doors closed on his girlfriend.

"I completely forgot about her," Bruce sighed, slumping into the nearest desk chair. "Crap, I didn't even think about her. I'm sorry Tony."

That startled him. "What? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I didn't think about her. Didn't even stop to consider that you're not single before I..." he gestured vaguely.

"Pushed me up against a wall and fucked me senseless?"

That earned a small blush, and a glare. "Yes, that. You cheated on her, and its my fault."

"To be fair, it takes two to tango. And I think Pep kind of anticipates my cheating."

"You've cheated on her before?" Bruce asked, brow knit.

"Well, no, not before you at least. But don't worry about it, I'll talk to her."

"She doesn't deserve to be cheated on, Tony."

"I know, it'll be a grand apology, and a gentle break up. I promise," he said, coming over to stand in front of Bruce, bending down.

The physicist pulled away from the attempted kiss though. "I can't. Not until you talk to her."

Tony nodded and stood up straight again. "I'll talk to her when we get back," he said, offering a hand up.

Bruce took it, smoothing the frown lines away. He'd worry about his guilt later.

Twenty minutes later on the dot they met a black nondescript sedan outside of the tower, sliding into the back and quickly being whisked away. "So, where're we headed?" Tony asked the driver, an equally nondescript man who's shoulder set screamed agent.

"To the helicarrier, sir."

Tony rolled his eyes. "And where exactly is that?"

"You'll see shortly, sir."

"Sir, huh? Does that mean I'm your superior?" the billionaire needled.

"Just a curtesy...sir."

"So that's a no then?"

"Tony, leave him alone, he's driving," Bruce interrupted, voice quiet but firm.

He huffed but agreed, choosing instead to sit back and move closer to the other man, scooting over until their shoulders were pressed together. Bruce glanced at him but chose to ignore the proximity, staring out the window instead. He watched as they drove out of the city, skyscrapers fading into suburbs, then further until the highway was lined with trees and gently rolling hills.

Eventually they turned off onto a small, easily missed side road, following it further and further down. Then the trees ended and the car stopped in front of a chain link fence. The driver waited patiently until the gate opened with a buzz, rolling back so they could drive through.

They crested a hill and suddenly the helicarrier was in front of them, swarming with the activity of repair. The car drove straight out onto the tarmac, stopping at a close by safe distance. Bruce and Tony slid out and stared up at the massive aircaft as the car drove away. One couldn't fully grasp the size until the thing was grounded, looming high above. Tony whistled. "Damn."

Bruce nodded. "I'll say."

"Its about time," Fury called, striding over to them. "Come one, everyone else is already here." He lead them over to a lift that brought them up to the main deck. "You still operate from here even when its under repairs?" Bruce asked.

"This is our base Doctor Banner, if not here then where?"

"Good point."

Fury nodded. "And the majority of the damage is confined to areas around the blades. Most of the carrier is in working order, and we'll have it back in the sky within the month."

Tony huffed. "Cut to the chase, Fury, what're we here for? What could possibly have come up in the last," he checked his phone,"three hours?"

Fury crossed his arms and fully turned to face them both. "Agent Coulson woke up."


	3. Chapter 3

Phil was pale, and weak, deep purple bruises around his eyes. Eyes clouded with the effects of powerful drugs. Phil had almost died. And he was Phil right now, with the entirety of the Avengers crowded around his bed. He wasn't Agent Coulson at the moment, their handler, their recruiter, unassuming badass Agent Coulson. He was just Phil, still a badass, but their friend, the man they had all almost lost without really knowing, who's assumed death had pissed them all off enough to take down an army. And he was smiling.

"Hey guys," he mumbled, words coming slower than usual. "How's it going?"

Clint was on him in an instant, going to his bedside, hands fluttering, unsure if or where he could touch. Phil inclined his head and Clint finally touched his cheek, cupping his face gently. "I thought I told you not to go dying on me," he said.

He gave a weak, airy laugh. "I didn't, was just a near miss," he murmured, closing his eyes and turning into the palm.

The rest of the group had been too startled to move, everyone except Natasha, who pulled up a chair each for her and Clint. Of course, she knew everything. Steve shook himself and went next, taking a seat in a chair on the opposite side. "Hey Cap'n," Phil greeted, turning his head lazily to grin at his childhood hero. Steve smiled back.

Tony and Bruce stood near the foot of the hospital bed. "Hey Agent, good to see you back with the living," Tony said.

Phil turned that same sleepy smile on him. "Thanks, Stark," he said, with none of the usual bantering bite.

"You're super high, you know?"

He snorted. "Yeah, I know. Don't film it or anything, would be mean," he sighed, turning back to Clint when the archer grabbed his hand.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony said simply, actually meaning it for once.

Phil drew his attention away from Clint to ask, "So how'd everything go. I'm told we won."

For the next hour they related the events of the battle against Loki and the Chitauri, jumping back and forth between everyone's different point of view. They started with the sorrowful news of Phil's 'death', and their determination to avenge him ("Knew the name worked," Phil had said to that), finishing with Tony flying the nuke into the portal, and Thor heading home with Loki and the tesseract safely in his possession. Phil beamed at them all. "You did good."

Eventually a doctor poked inside, looking around apologetically. "I'm sorry, but he needs his rest," she said, trying to shoo them out of the room and inject a sedative into the IV bag at the same time. Before he could be pushed away though Clint bent down and kissed Phil, just a quick brush of lips and a lingering touch against his neck. Then the drugs set in and the wounded agent's eyes closed, falling into an easy sleep. Clint sighed and stepped away from the bed, leveling a brief glare at the doctor before letting himself be lead away by Natasha.

"So," Tony started once the small group had settled into a table at the back of the carrier's cafeteria, "you and Coulson, huh?"

Clint's eyes snapped up from his food, narrowing defensively. "Do you really want to start with me?" he asked.

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, don't bite my head off, I was just asking. You two make a cute couple."

Clint grunted and went back to his food. "We're not really a couple, we've never even talked about it" he said eventually. "I thought I'd lost him though. Kind of puts your priorities in order, you know."

They all made various noises of agreement, silent for a time afterward as they ate. Never one to keep quiet long though, Tony spoke back up. "So Spangles, what are your thoughts on this?"

"Quit calling me spangles," Steve said automatically. "And what do I think about what?"

Tony shrugged. "Gay people?"

Steve gave if some honest thought before speaking. "I was always the live and let live type," he said. "And Phil deserves to be happy. So if Clint is what makes him happy then who am I to judge?"

Tony gave him a long speculative look, then nodded, letting the team finish their food in silence

Eventually Fury came to them, just as they were stepping back out of the cafeteria, waving away the cluster of agents following him and stopping in front of the Avengers. "I thought you all might like an explanation," he greeted.

"You're volunteering information?" Tony scoffed. Clint and Natasha looked a little surprised too.

Fury shrugged and walked away, black trench coat adding nice dramatic flare. "You want it or not?" he called over his shoulder.

They followed, eventually being lead to the director's personal office above the bridge. The marksman sprawled on the love seat, Natasha folding down next to him, Steve and Bruce took the chairs in front of the desk, and Tony leant against a wall with his arms crossed.

They all stared at Fury expectantly. "First of all," he began, "this was as much Coulson's idea as it was mine. And I think you'll all agree, you never would have worked so well together without the lie."

"How was it Phil's idea, he was unconscious?" Steve questioned.

"Before passing out, he said to me 'this was never gonna work unless they had something.' He didn't exactly finish that thought, but I imagine he would have done the same thing. You all never would have banded together otherwise. You are called The Avengers after all. You gotta have something to avenge. And desperate times call for desperate measures."

Steve huffed and rubbed his eyes. "It's really stupid that you're right," he grumbled.

And no one could argue with that.

"We rushed him to the med bay right after it happened, barely got him there in time. He's making a good recovery though. I wouldn't say he's out of the woods yet," Clint's head jerked up at that,"but everything looks promising. If he makes it through the week without complications then he'll be solid. He'll be on bed rest for a long time, but he'll live."

"One week," Clint nodded, more to himself than anyone else, "he can do that. He's made it this far. He's not going to die now." He squared his shoulders and nodded again, the unspoken I wont let him clear to everyone.

Fury leaned back in his chair and wound his fingers together, obviously satisfied. "That leads me to my next point."

More than one of them groaned. Fury rolled his eyes.

"All I need is a favor from Stark. Two favors actually." They all turned to look at Tony.

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want to set up a ground base in Stark tower."

"Not gonna happen."

"What for?" Steve asked.

"Doesn't matter, its my tower." He glared at Steve. "And since when do you have a vested enough interest to even ask? You don't even live there."

"He might, if you agree to my next request," Fury interrupted.

"What?" they all asked.

"I need you all in one place," Fury explained. "You need to be a unified force. We don't know what kind of doors have been opened yet, and you have to put on a strong face. Being all in one place will help that. As will having a Shield base in the tower. Plus, when the carrier is back in the air, I'd like to have Coulson on the ground. It'll be better for his recovery."

Tony groaned and leaned his head back against the wall. "Great, now if I say no it'll make me look like a heartless ass."

"Pretty much," Fury said, smiling because he knew he'd already won. "We don't need much space, fifteen, maybe twenty floors."

"I'll give you ten," the genius countered.

"Fine, but I want the basement too, and the underground parking garage."

"Why do I get the feeling I walked right in to that?"

"You kind of did. Now, as for housing your the rest of your teammates-"

"Who says any of us agreed to live there?" Steve cut him off.

"Captain, you're their leader, it kind of defeats the purpose of the exercise if you don't live there."

"What, don't want me as your room mate Spangles?" Tony teased.

"I told you to stop calling me that. And no, not really. Can you blame me?"

Fury just shook his head. "You'll do it Captain, and you'll both do everything you can to make it work. I don't want to have to kill someone off every time a crisis strikes."

Steve nodded. "Yes sir."

"Fine," Tony agreed. "When do you need the floors? I have to shuffle some things."

"The sooner the better. The rest of you can move in whenever you want. We'll move Coulson as soon as he's stable enough." They worked out a few minor details after that, before disbanding. Clint and Nat went in the direction leading back to the medical bay, Tony and Bruce to the elevator out. Steve followed them to the doors. "I don't have a lot of things. I could pack a duffle and be moved in ten minutes," he said.

Tony arched his eyebrows and looked at Bruce, who simply returned the look. "Awfully eager there Cap. I'd thought you'd put it off until the last minute."

Steve shrugged one shoulder, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Like Fury said, the sooner the better. I could just come with you now."

"Guess one more for temp housing," Tony sighed, stepping into the lift. "Meet us on the ground when you're ready."

As soon as the doors closed Tony grabbed Bruce by the belt loops and pulled him close, but instead of kissing him he simply nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Bruce tensed, surprised, and his hands hovered for a moment before settling on his waist. Then his arms tightened, pulling him closer, so for a while they were just holding each other as their small metal box descended.

They came to a stop finally, and Tony pulled away before the doors slid open. Bruce gave him a funny look, trying to process his disappointment.

An agent was already waiting for them, the same one from before. He nodded to them. "Fury said you'd be needing another ride."

"Yeah, but we're waiting for a third," Tony said, already striding to the waiting car. "So do you just sit around waiting to give people rides?"

Bruce smiled and followed behind the agent. He was getting used to Tony's mood shifts, how he'd follow a touching moment with charisma. He saw now it was just a defense mechanism.

Steve showed up a few minutes later, a large duffle bag hefted over one shoulder that he threw into the trunk. He took the passenger seat next to the agent, and they all set off.


	4. Chapter 4

That evening they had dinner sitting around the table in the communal kitchen. Bruce had cooked a large pan of stir fry and rice, prompting Tony and Steve to get along long enough to enjoy it. It was actually going better than expected, conversation flowing easily and silence in between comfortable.

Steve was the first to start yawning. "Heck of day," he said, leaning back in his seat.

Both scientists nodded in agreement. Had it really only been that morning that they'd sent Loki away?

"I think I'm gonna hit the sack," he said, pushing away from the table.

"I'll probably head to bed too," Bruce said once they were left alone. "Which room is mine?"

"Oh, here," Tony said, wandering down the hall. He picked a door to the right and stepped inside. "This work?"

Bruce nodded, having eyes only for the bed. "Perfect," he sighed, kicking his shoes off and heading for it. He didn't notice Tony close the door and mirror his actions, jumping a little when he felt a hand on his waist. "What are you doing?" he asked warily.

"Going to bed," Tony said, flopping down and looking up at him as he spoke. "What's it look like?"

"Tony, I thought-"

"Bruce, calm down. We'll just be sleeping. I wont touch, we wont kiss, we'll just be sleeping, in the same bed. It's not a big deal." He patted the cover next to him. "Come on, we're both tired, just go with it."

Bruce heaved a sigh. "You have any pajamas?"

Tony grinned and bounded up, heading for the storage unit on the far wall. "We're close enough to the same size, so we can just share clothes," he said, tossing him a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. He watched as Bruce undid the yellow button down and let it drop to the floor, then shimmied out of cream slacks. He glanced up at the small sigh Tony unconsciously made.

He laughed and shook his head a little as he pulled on the pajamas. "You should be changing, not watching me," he said.

Tony shrugged. "I sleep in the buff." Bruce cocked his head and arched a brow. "But I suppose I can wear underwear," he relented, smirking.

Bruce smiled back and settled onto the bed. Tony stripped, kicking his pants halfway across the room, and sprawled on top of the covers next to him, on his stomach. That must've been a mistake though (or a very good idea, possibly) because Bruce gasped.

He was frowning when Tony looked up at him. So, yeah, a mistake."What?"

"Your back," he said, reaching out and running a finger down one of the worst scratches, already healing and fading away. "I didn't realize it was that bad."

Tony grinned. "Bad is relative. Plus, it was mostly my fault. This though" he rolled over, revealing fading bruises on his hip bones. "These are all you."

Bruce sighed and reached over, running his thumb across the ones on Tony's left hip. "Jeez, I didn't mean to be that rough. I'm sorry."

Tony gave a low chuckle. "There is absolutely no reason to be sorry. And did you not see the ones on my thighs?" he asked, drawing his leg up enough for Bruce to see the fading hand print.

His eyes widened. "And you really wonder why I think sex is a bad idea."

"Bruce," Tony said, waiting until he had the other man's full attention. When he did he sat up and grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head, gentle but with enough pressure so he couldn't turn away. "You have to stop beating yourself up."

Bruce sighed and couldn't think of an answer, so he leaned up and kissed him. It was hard and deep, a desperate clash of tongue and lips as he tried to pour as much emotion as possible into that gesture. Tony moaned into his mouth, hand tightening in curls, taking as much as Bruce would offer.

When he pulled away Tony's eyes were glazed, his lips red and glistening. Then he grinned. "Now that's more like it."

Bruce just smiled and shook his head, laying down and pulling the covers up. "Go to bed Tony."

He happily complied, sliding under the covers and calling out to Jarvis. "Lights off Jarv." And they faded away to blackness.

After a few minutes of laying there Tony huffed. "This is stupid," he complained, wriggling until he was up against the other scientist. "Damn, you're like a furnace," he observed, wrapping an arm around his stomach and settling in.

"Mm, Tony, you said no touching." Bruce murmured, already falling asleep.

"Yeah, I lied, you'll have to live with it."

"I think I'll manage," he sighed.

Bruce woke slowly the next morning, laying face down in a pillow, arms folded beneath it, wondering idly when the last time he'd slept so well was. Then he felt a tickle on his side, finally noticing the weight across his back, and lifted his head enough to see a certain philanthropist tucked up against him. Tony had shimmied down sometime in the night and now had his cheek pressed against Bruce's ribs, sprawled over the lower half of his body like he was a giant stuffed animal.

Then Jarvis spoke and Tony jerked awake, looking around blurrily and smiling when he saw Bruce.

"Sir, Miss Potts is here, she'd like to know which room you're in."

Tony grunted and laid back down, tightening his arm around Bruce again and using his back as a pillow. "Point her in the right direction then," he mumbled, preoccupied with considering if you could bite Bruce or not without having him freak out.

"Tony," Bruce hissed. Guess not. "Tony!"

"What? I only bit you a little."

"Letting Pepper walk in on us like this is just cruel," he said, indicating their ruffled state of undress.

Oh shit, right. Tony sat up and was about to stand, saying "Jarvis, tell Pepper to-" but it was too late. The brilliant PA turned CEO walked in, without knocking.

She caught them in a slightly awkward position. To say it was compromising would be a massive understatement. Tony had one foot on the floor, the other knee between Bruce's leg, where he'd put it when he'd clambered over him to get to the edge of the bed. He had a hand on Bruce's shoulder, was telling him to stay in bed and not freak out, and Bruce had his mouth open to complain.

Pepper just gaped at them for a moment, then fell into a fit of laughter, shaking her head as she left the room again.

They both stared after her. "Uh, that's either a good thing, or a really really bad thing," Tony said eventually.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration. "You're an ass. I'm an ass. We're both messed up," he groaned.

Tony finally got both feet on the floor and sought out a pair of pants. "Maybe just a little. I'm gonna go talk to her." He found Bruce's clothes from the day before and pulled them on, already out the door before Bruce had even budged an inch.

He stared at the closed door for a moment, then shook his head and sat up. Bones popped as he stretched and stood, shuffling towards the bathroom. This was too much to worry about before he'd had a proper shower, and maybe a hot cup of caffeinated tea.

When he was cleaned, dressed, and as presentable as he ever got, he wandered out into the living area. And found it empty. "Uh, Jarvis, where is everyone?" he asked the ceiling.

" is in the gym, and took Miss Potts out for brunch."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Bruce said, aimlessly looking around the large empty room.

"Of course sir. Will that be everything?"

"Uhm...Is there any tea?"

"Above the stove. A kettle can be found in the lower cupboard to the left of the stove as well."

"Thank you Jarvis," Bruce said as he went to the kitchen, finding everything exactly where the AI had said it would be. He filled the kettle and set it to boil while he looked through the variety of tea. It made guilt twist further in his stomach when he realized it had probably been Pepper who made sure this plethora was here.

He sighed and settled for cinnamon black tea, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms while he waited for his water to boil.

Tony returned a few hours later to find Bruce stretched out on one of the sofas in the living room, watching a movie about the end of the world. The perpetually rumpled scientist looked over his shoulder at the sound of someone entering, and arched an eyebrow in question. "How'd it go?"

He collapsed next to Bruce and slung an arm over his shoulder. "Better than expected actually. She doesn't hate you if that's what you're asking."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "That's good to know. But I meant is she okay."

"Yeah, she's fine. I'm almost offended by how not bothered she was." He noticed the other man's frown. "I'm just kidding, I'm glad she's okay with it. She actually said we make a lot more sense together than her and I ever did. I have to agree. Plus I got the impression she had her eye on someone else. I'll have to look into that. Hey, do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"

He reeled a little at the sudden subject change. "Uhm, sure? Like a date?"

"Or just two bros getting dinner. You know, whatever. But yes, I mean like a date."

"Okay, sure. It should be... interesting."

"I like the enthusiasm," Tony said, rolling his eyes sarcastically, but grinning.

Bruce shook his head, something he was getting used to doing, and just smiled. "Want to watch the end of this movie with me?"

Tony nodded, tightening his arm around Bruce and settling in.

Bruce was in front of the bathroom mirror later that evening, trying to do something with his hair so his curls wouldn't stick out at odd angles, when he heard a knock on the bedroom door. He ignored it, assuming Tony, who he'd last seen rifling through his closet for clothes, would answer it. But then the knocking came again, slightly louder, and he looked out into the bedroom to find it empty. He briefly wondered where Tony had gotten off too while he walked to the door.

Tony, of course, was on the other side. He was dressed impeccably in a three piece suit, minus a tie, and had a plain pine box in his hands. A contagious grin was plastered on his face.

Bruce smiled back and leaned on the door frame, getting the hint. "You're picking me up for our date."

"Bingo," he answered, handing over the box. "I was going to get you flowers, but that doesn't seem right. I thought you might like this better."

Bruce slid the lid back, and melted a little. Inside nestled a pile of awkward little bulbs, cradled in spirals of tan shredded paper. "Flowering teas." He sighed and put the lid back into place, smiling fondly. "You're amazing."

Tony just smiled and suffled a little. Its not like he hadn't heard that a million times before, but coming from Bruce it actually meant something. "Come here," he said, pulling Bruce out of the door and running his fingers through his hair. He just stood there with a small grimace while Tony messed up his attempts at orderly hair. "Much better," he said when he'd finished re-ruffling the waves.

"Well, so much for having kempt hair," Bruce said with a smile, closing the bedroom door as they started down the hall.

"I like when you have bed head. Its one of your charms." Tony slid an arm around the shorter man's waist as they stepped into the lift. "So, where do you want to eat? I was going to get a reservation somewhere, but you don't strike me as the five star, $100 a plate type of guy." Bruce arched an eyebrow at that, smirking when Tony panicked a little and back peddled. "Not that you're not worth it, it just doesn't seem like you're thing. Ah hell, just..." He huffed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he'd just shoved his foot in his mouth.

Bruce, being brilliant, and more understanding than Tony felt he'd ever deserve, just smiled and took the stammering man's arm from around his waist and wound their fingers together. "I like diner food," he said.

Tony relaxed, beaming at him. "I know a place."

They ended up sitting at the far end of the counter in a small, hole in the wall diner, Tony looking ridiculously out of place in his suit, Bruce less so in his dark grey button up and jeans. Not that Tony really ever noticed being out of place.

The waitress behind the counter tried not to trip over herself when she recognized Tony. "You're Iron Man," she breathed, pencil hanging from limp fingers.

"Yeah, I am, and I'll give you a really big tip if you don't draw attention to that."

She nodded rapidly and actually gave herself a small shake. "Okay, can I get you some menus?"

Tony shook his head. "I know what I want. Bruce?"

Also a negative. "Macaroni and cheese, tomato soup, two pieces of sour dough toast, butter on the side, and a coke. If you have it all, that is."

The woman smiled and wrote everything down. "Sure thing. You?"

"I'll have an open face Italian sandwich, and a chocolate shake." The waitress finished writing everything down, then left them in peace. Tony immediately turned to Bruce with a quirked smile. "That was an awfully concise order. Something tells me there's a story there."

He smiled back bashfully. "Not really, its just what I get at every diner. Kind of like a controlled standard to judge the quality by."

That got a broad grin. "That's such a physicist thing, controlled testing." Bruce just rolled his eyes. "You're adorable." And blushed.

For the next twenty minutes Tony did everything he could to make his date turn a darker shade of red, whispering lewd things in his ear, or giving ridiculously affectionate, yet no less true, compliments. "Hey, look, you match your soup," he chimed when their food arrived.

Bruce groaned and put his forehead on the counter. "Its your fault."

"I know. Now eat your test."

With food in his mouth Tony managed to stop talking long enough for Bruce's blush to fade, and they ate their food in relative quiet, listening to the late night bustle of the diner. Tony leaned over at some point and rested against Bruce's shoulder, snatching a bite from the last of his macaroni. "That's actually pretty good."

He hummed and finished swallowing. "Yeah, its not bad. Think the soup could have used more herbs though."

"Brains, beauty, and he knows how to cook. Jackpot. So how's this place stack up in your testing?"

"Not the best, but certainly not the worst. I'd come back."

Tony nodded while he drained the last of his milk shake. He gestured for the bill then, and like promised left a tip that could put that woman's first born child through a year of college. Then they went home, and Tony insisted they try some of the blooming tea.

Bruce boiled some water while they changed into pajamas, insisting that Tony actually wear clothes if they were out of their room. "Its my tower, I can be naked if I want. I'm thinking about being a nudist while I'm here actually."

"Have you considered that I don't want people seeing you naked?" Bruce asked while he set the glass tea pot on the living room table, bulb rolling around in the bottom.

Tony stared at him, then laughed. "Doctor Banner, is that a jealous streak I see?"

Bruce padded back to the kitchen and returned with the water, answering while he poured it in the pot. "Its more like a possessive streak. At least a little bit." Then he folded to the floor and crossed his arms on the table top, resting his chin on his arms and staring at the tea.

Tony fell silent while they watched, more fascinated by Bruce than he was by the tea. It was beautiful to watch the bulb unfurl, but he loved watching the man, how calm and pleased his expression was from something so seemingly unimportant. The water slowly stained, and Tony fell a little deeper.

"This is much better than flowers," he decided.

Bruce looked up at him with a beatific smile and sat up straight. "Definitely." Then he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Tony's lips. He pulled back a hairs breadth and stared into caramel brown eyes. Then Tony was burying his fingers into his hair and pushing him back, sitting in his lap and fusing their mouths together. It was a slow burning thing, tongues twining, carefully testing and exploring, hands trailing thoughtlessly. A thumb ran up the bare of Tony's spine, eliciting a full body shiver and a deep breath, drawn through his nose because he didn't want to break the contact.

Then Bruce drew back with a shaky breath, Tony making a small noise of protest. "The tea will over steep," he said softly, licking his lips. Tony tracked the movement and leaned back in, stealing another kiss, then sighed and shifted so he was sitting just to the side of Bruce's legs instead of on them.

He fished the flowered bulb from the water and placed it in a dish, smiling down at the small soaked object before setting it aside. He poured two cups and handed one to Tony. "I know tea isn't really your thing, its fine if you don't like it."

They sipped at the steaming liquid, quietly enjoying each other and being pressed so close together, until the pot was down to dregs, Bruce having drank most. "I don't think I'll be giving up coffee any time soon," Tony said, setting his empty cup on the table. "But I'm glad you like it." Then he stood and pulled Bruce to his feet, insisting everything could be cleaned up in the morning, and lead him to their room.

He backed Bruce up until he hit the bed and sat down. His hands trailed down until his thumbs rested in the small divots of Tony's hip bones, pulling him down until he was settled in his lap again. "I had a lot of fun tonight," he said, and Tony gave low chuckle while he bent down.

"Good to know, because I had thought you were miserable the whole time," murmured against the skin of his shoulder, tilting his head and kissing the underside of Bruce's jaw. He felt the small swallow just before his response.

"Well, I don't think I've ever been so red. I thought I was incapable of blushing like that any more." Tony nipped at a sensitive spot on his neck at that, and he gave a small breath that shook on the way out. "But yes," he continued, voice low,"I had a very good time."

"Mm, good." Then Tony did the unexpected and stopped. He kissed him briefly on the lips, then swung his leg over and rolled away, pulling the covers back enough to crawl beneath them.

"Uh, what just happened?" Bruce asked, expression slightly dumbfounded.

Tony smiled and gestured for him to get under the covers with him. Once Bruce had settled down too, on his stomach, head propped up in one hand to look at Tony, he asked, "So?"

"I just..." Tony sighed while he thought of the right words. Bruce Banner was probably the only person who could leave him at such a loss for words. "Tonight has been perfect, and I don't want to ruin it."

He couldn't deny the small sink in his stomach. "You don't want the other guy making an appearance."

"Well, that would definitely get the blood pumping," he mused. "But no, never will that be my reason. Ever. I just don't want to see that look in your eyes. You don't deserve to feel that way."

"What way?"

"Disappointed in yourself. There's no need for it, but I know if we do something, and it gets to be too much, that's how you'll feel. And you shouldn't. You should be happy, and you were tonight, and its not worth ruining that just to get grabby."

Bruce actually laughed a little. "You're amazing," he said for the second time that night. "Thank you."

Tony's face glowed, and not just from the arc reactor settled in his chest. "Jarv, hit the lights," he called. Then he pulled Bruce over and they tangled together, falling asleep to the sound of tandem breathing.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days went by with fairly little noteworthy activity. Tony got the lower ten floors prepared for Shield to move in, leaving Bruce mostly by himself in the lab. Sometimes he'd go down to the gym and do some yoga, occasionally running across Steve, and they would chat. He was surprisingly easy to get along with, when Tony wasn't there to push his buttons. At one point he asked about Bruce's accident, and he wasn't as bothered by the questioning as he thought he'd be. When he'd heard about Captain America's return, he had thought he'd feel some sort of animosity towards the man who embodied everything they'd been trying to create when he'd been turned into the Hulk. But there was none. Steve was just an awkward kid with a good moral compass who'd been thrown into something amazing. That was probably why the serum had worked so well on him.

The three of them ate dinner together every night, and it seemed like Tony and Steve were starting to get along better. Bruce suspected part of it was for his benefit, to say thanks for cooking. It was better than them bickering though.

At the end of the week they got word from Fury that Phil was in the clear, and they'd be sending him over that day. "Gee thanks for the seven AM wake up call," Tony grumbled.

"Quit your bitching Stark, we'll have him there by noon." Then Fury hung up.

"I'm starting to get annoyed with him hanging up on me all the time. Its not as dramatic as he thinks," Tony huffed, dropping the phone back on the bedside table.

Bruce hummed noncommittally, still face down in the pillow where he'd been when the phone ringing had woken them up. "What'd he want?"

"They're sending Phil over, he'll be here by noon," Tony said, finishing in a groan as he laid back down. Bruce hummed again and started falling back asleep.

Tony watched him, smiled at the small movement of his sides as he breathed, and considered how far he could push the man today. He'd been good about keeping his promise to not go over Bruce's limits, stopping when he was told, keeping everything above the belt. They'd really only kissed a handful of times, and Tony had been good about keeping his touches relatively innocent. He found that Bruce was more pliable in the mornings though.

And damned if Tony Stark wasn't one to push boundaries.

He skated a hand down his back, just fingertips, starting at the base of his hair and running down his spine. He stopped at the line of his pants, letting his palm rest in the small of Bruce's back, then slowly let his fingers slide in past the elastic. Bruce didn't show any sign that he noticed, holding perfectly still, so Tony took it as a good sign and continued. He pushed down the pajama bottoms and underwear, grinning at how his hand fit the shape of one cheek. He glanced up at his face and saw a smile tugging at one cheek. "What're you doing?" he asked, humor in his voice.

"Mm, nothing," Tony said innocently. "You should turn over."

Bruce opened his eyes at that. "That's probably not a good idea."

"Maybe. But I'll stop if you tell me to. You know that."

He thought about it for maybe thirty seconds before sighing and turning over. Tony danced a little inside in triumph, promptly straddling the other man on all fours. Where to start, he wondered

He settled on kissing him first, sliding a hand behind his neck and bringing their mouths together. He kissed him with just his lips, slow but firm, taking his breath away, until his impatience got the better of him and Bruce was licking at his lower lip, asking for entry. Tony gave it eagerly, exploring each other with tongues like they hadn't just done something similar yesterday. Granted they'd been fully dressed, standing in the kitchen, and it hadn't been nearly as intoxicating, but still. Tony's inner rambling was cut short by a pair of hands running down his sides and settling on his hips.

He broke away and looked down, finding Bruce's eyes glazed, lips parted, and breathing quickened. Well that's new. Usually Bruce kept an iron lock on anything that could cause a look like that. Don't question a good thing though Tony told himself.

He picked back up with renewed force, tangling his fingers in his hair, earning an short moan. He pulled his head back and attacked his throat, sucking a mark into the crook where neck meant shoulder. Bruce was holding onto his waist, whether he realized he was beginning to push down Tony's boxer-briefs was debatable, but he wasn't complaining.

Then Tony snaked a hand down, reaching into low riding pajamas and grabbing hot skin. Bruce jumped, then groaned, panting heavily. Tony could feel the pulse jumping in his throat, the way it increased with his strokes.

"Tony, stop," Bruce gasped suddenly, pushing at his stomach. He looked up, eyes widening at the dusting of green across the bridge of his nose, the acid in his eyes.

"That's kind of hot," Tony said idly, climbing off of him and sitting off to the side.

As soon as he was free Bruce rolled onto his knees, braced himself on his elbows and pressed the heals of his hands into his temples. Tony waited patiently until the green cast faded away and his breathing was even again. Finally he relaxed and pulled his hands away, looking over at the billionaire apologetically.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Tony shook his head. "Don't be."

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Bruce sighed and sat up. "I think I'll go meditate," he said, placing his feet on the floor. Tony watched while he changed into a pair of grey sweats and white t-shirt, his typical gym attire, then followed when he went to brush he teeth, following suit. Bruce ignored him while he leaned against the long bathroom counter. For a while there was only the sound brushes and running water, then Bruce spit and left the room without another word.

Tony rolled his eyes and quickly rinsed out his toothpaste, running after the other man. He caught him just outside the door in the hallway, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. He stopped and looked back questioningly.

Tony turned him around, deliberately ignoring the cautious tension in his arms and shoulder, and touched his face, running the pad of his thumb over his cheek bone. Then he leaned in and kissed him before he could protest.

Bruce sighed and let it happen, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Then Tony pulled away, smiling at him before letting his hand drop. Opening their line of sight to Steve, walking slowly away from the elevator while he ruffled his hair with a towel. Bruce held still. Were they keeping this a secret?

The captain smiled at their startled expressions. "I've known since the second day I lived here," he said simply, dissapearing into his room without another word.

Tony snorted, cracking into laughter. "Its figures."

Bruce chuckled. "Not as oblivious as you'd like to think." Then he patted Tony on the arm and went to the elevator, waving just before the doors closed.

He grinned, waving back, then turned and set to work making sure a room was ready for Phil. Hm, maybe two rooms, Natasha and Clint would likely be moving in today too. And it was almost a guarantee Clint wouldn't be leaving Phil's side, so they could share a room.

At about a quarter to noon Tony's phone rang. "We'll be there in five," Natasha said. "On the roof."

"Right, we'll meet you up there."

They hung up and Tony told Jarvis to find Bruce and Steve and direct them to the roof. Seven minutes later the three of them stood up top in the wind, watching the quinjet land.

Natasha was the first one out, wearing civilian clothes, but looking every bit the agent on alert. She was followed by a small medical team, flocked around a hospital gurney, all trying very hard not to earn the anger of a very tense Hawk. Phil, in the gurney, was awake, and didn't look terribly pleased with anything, and in fact looked like he was focusing on not being sick.

The bed stopped in front of the three of them, and Clint shooed the cluster of doctors and nurses away. "We've got it from here," he snapped. They all nodded and scurried away, back into the quinjet. "Let's get inside," Clint ordered.

Eventually they managed to get everyone situated in the correct room, Clint actually smiling thankfully when Tony said he had assumed he and Phil would be sharing a room anyway. Natasha sent back the gurney and word to the jet for it to take off, they wouldn't have any further need for medical assistance, and the five of them congregated in the communal kitchen, letting Phil sleep in peace.

"Clint is assigned to Phil's care for the foreseeable future, and I'm to help coordinate Shield's move," Natasha said eventually, to break the silence.

"Playing nurse now, huh?" Tony asked Clint, earning a glare from more than one person. He held up his hands. "Hey, I was just asking."

"Its more like he's scared away anyone else who might have been willing to do it. Fury got tired of the complaints," Natasha explained.

"They're all incompetent," Clint grumbled. "And plus, Bruce is a doctor, I trust him more than any of those jackwads."

Bruce arched his eyebrows. "I'm technically not an MD, but I know enough to manage I think."

Clint nodded, and silence encroached again. Their host didn't let it last long though. "Well, who wants lunch? I'm thinking take out."

They ordered massive amounts of food from a small Chinese food place a few blocks over from the tower, freaking out the delivery guy by sending Dummy to pick up the boxes of food. Then they settled into the small living area inside Clint and Phil's room to eat, waking up the injured man so he could enjoy some decent food for the first time in weeks. Or months, if he'd been living on cafeteria food, which was likely.

"So, I hear our in-house geniuses have hooked up," Phil said eventually, once they'd put a good dent in the food. He was bundled in the bed, Clint sitting cross legged next to him. He wasn't as out of it as he'd been when they'd visited him in the hospital, but those who knew him could see the effects of the pain meds Clint was insisting he take. He was definitely groggy.

Bruce glanced up, then looked over at Tony for a sign in how to answer. The billionaire simply shrugged. "I guess everyone knows at this point."

Everyone looked at Steve at that, who looked around, confused, then frowned. "Oh come on. What happened that makes everyone just assume I'd be oblivious to this?"

They all looked around at each other, and shrugs passed through the group. "You're innocent," Bruce spoke up finally. "You don't seem like the kind who's mind would jump to that conclusion, especially given the rarity of these type of relationships in the era you're from. Its more a reflection of our interpretation of the 40's, not really an opinion of you. We know you're intelligent, but some things are more a matter of experience."

Steve nodded slowly, mulling it over. "One of the things you'll never see in the history books is the relationships in the trenches," he said eventually. "It happened. Yeah, it was rare, no one talked about it, and it was always denied, but you learned the signs. The constant threat of death will really show you what's worth worrying about."

They all hummed and nodded, all understanding in their own ways.

Then Phil gave a huge yawn, and Clint proceeded to shoo everyone out with armfuls of mostly empty take out boxes.

"Hey, you got sweet and sour sauce on my shirt," Tony complained.

Clint just shook his head, saying, "You'll live," then closed the door on them without another word.

"That was rude," Phil said when Clint came back to the bed. He was smiling though. Phil had his own sadistic streak, Clint had found, albeit carefully concealed behind his deliberately bland facade.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I'm good at that. How're you feeling?"

"Tired, a little sore." He wrinkled his nose and shifted his shoulder blades. "The one in back itches, its driving me crazy."

Clint hopped up and sought out the small orange tube of pain pills and a bottle of water, handing them over and heading to the bathroom so he could wash his hand and grab a bottle of lotion. "Take your shirt off, and turn away from me," he instructed while he settled down behind the older man. A frown pulled at his mouth when the fabric was taken away, revealing an infuriatingly harmless looking line. Stab wounds were always deceiving, conveying none of the internal chaos they caused.

He must have made a disgruntled noise because Phil was looking back over his shoulder in question. "Sorry," Clint said. "Its just surprising how much damage can some from something that looks so small."

Phil chuckled. "So you've mentioned before. Remember that mission in Kharkiv?"

Clint groaned a little. That had been the first time he'd taken a knife to the stomach. "Yeah, I remember."

"You complained for days."

"It hurt. And it was only like an inch long. And I know it was deep but-"

"You're lucky it didn't hit your spine."

"...I know," Clint sighed, resting his forehead against his back, on the uninjured side, and smiling a little. He held out the bottle. "You want lotion or not?"

"Please."

Clint gently rubbed lotion over the wound, avoiding the glue-sealed edges. Phil sighed and dropped his head a little. "Much better," he murmured. "That itching is going to drive me insane though."

Clint gave him a pat on the side and shifted away to stand. "Just let me know if it happens again, I don't mind," he offered while he returned the lotion to the bathroom. Then he shuffled off towards the couch, already settling in and unfolding the afghan before he noticed the quietly amused smirk on Phil's face. "What?"

"What're you doing?" he asked, tone droll.

Clint blinked. "Sleeping?" Phil just stared at him. "What?"

"You've slept with your head practically in my lap for the last week. You would have been in the bed with me if it had been big enough." Clint looked down and fidgeted with the hem of the blanket. It was true, he'd hardly left the man's side in the last week, sleeping in a chair with his head resting in the bed, sometimes waking up with an arm sprawled over his lap. "Barton, just get over here," Phil finally sighed.

He threw the blanket back over the couch and went to the bed, crawling gracefully up to the headboard.

Phil gave him a pleased smile, then started easing himself down with a slight wince. Clint's hand shot out to brace him, eyes widened with concern. They shared a brief look, a very small battle of wills, then Hawkeye nodded and pulled his hands away, letting him lie down on his own. "I'm sorry," he said eventually.

"Don't be," Phil replied curtly, settling himself more comfortably.

Clint moved closer and leaned over him on one hand. He shook his head. "I know I'm being overprotective," he said. "And I know I shouldn't be." A hand came up and trailed over his stomach, running along the cut in the center of his chest with a feather light touch. "You're one of the strongest men I know," he continued finally, then gave a small laugh, and shook his head at himself. "No, actually. You are the strongest person I know."

Phil smiled slowly and grabbed the hand that had settled on his right pec, bringing it up and kissing the inside of his wrist. "Even Tasha?" he murmured?

"Yeah, even Tasha," Clint laughed. "Though she's definitely a close second." Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against the other's, letting his eyes fall closed and his hand curve around the back of his neck. He could feel the brief shallowing of Phil's breath before he steadied himself again, ever the pinnacle of control. He didn't miss the raise of goosebumps though.

Then Clint pulled back with a satisfied smirk. "How's the pain?"

He gave a laugh that came out as just a breath. "I'm good. The medication is pretty effective."

"Good," he said, laying down.

"Lights controlled by Stark's AI?"

"Yes sir," Jarvis chimed in before the archer could reply. "Would you like me to turn them off?"

Phil arched his eyebrows. "Go for it," Clint said. They faded away, leaving the room pleasantly black.

"That'll come in handy," Phil sighed, and he could feel the slight motion of the bed as Clint shifted closer. "Good night Agent Barton."

A chuckle came out of the dark. "Good night Coulson."


	6. Chapter 6

It had been two and a half weeks since Shield had started moving in. And the only reason Tony was keeping track was because that marked the morning Bruce had almost Hulked out in bed. It subsequently signified the last time Bruce let his guard down in the mornings. He made it a point to wake up before Tony nearly every day, and be dressed and out of the room before the billionaire was even conscious enough to touch him. It was beginning to get on his nerves. He was even considering going to Fury and requesting he and Bruce be sent on a mission somewhere where Hulk could smash, that way Tony could get a little post-fight action. He wasn't ruling out the option.

Tony was sexually frustrated to say the least, and everyone noticed except Bruce. It figured the one responsible would be blissfully unaware of the chaos he caused, but Tony made very sure his angsty, sex deprived attitude was kept in check whenever they were around each other. But every other person forced to share living quarters with him had taken notice.

"Why the fuck does this coffee take so long to brew," Tony growled, staring intently at the slow drip of dark liquid.

"Do you know what brew means?" Natasha drawled, closing the fridge looking at him with an arched brow. He just glared at her for a moment before turning back to the liquid. Just a few more centimeters and he'd have a full mug. She rolled her eyes and stalked off, grumbling something about taking care of it himself.

"I'm Tony Fucking Stark, I don't 'take care of it' myself," he snapped, pulling the coffee pot off the burner long enough to pour to the accumulated liquid into a travel mug before slamming it back into place. He started working on plans for a super-brewer on his way down to the lab.

"Hey gorgeous," he greeted, circling around the table Bruce was at and wrapping his arms around the stooped man's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder and watching him work.

"Morning," he replied absently, focusing on the samples on the slides in front of him.

"What're you working on?"

Bruce made a small disgruntled noise. "Nothing, I'll let you know what it is if it works."

"I'm thinking about modifying the coffee pot," Tony said while he moved to lean against the table.

Bones popped in his back as he straighten up, frowning. "What's wrong with it?"

"It takes forever. Nothing electronic in my possession has any excuse to run that slowly."

"You could just get a Keurig. They're the height of modern at-home coffee preparation, or so I'm told. I don't exactly drink the stuff, so I can't say I have much of a vested interest."

Tony made an indignant noise. "I could create a coffee machine a thousand times better than a Keurig," he sneered, already whipping out a tablet and setting to work on preliminary plans for an instant boil feature.

"Seriously though, what're you working on," Tony asked again, after a few hours of working to the background noise of Bruce's frustration. Anyone else would be cursing and throwing things by now, but the only sign Bruce was bothered by anything was the occasional huff of breath, and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Brown eyes glanced up at him, giving Tony a small tense smile. "Like I said, I'll let you know if it works."

The genius actually paid attention that time. "It's something for me?"

Bruce shrugged and bent back over his table. "Sort of," he said enigmatically. "It's for both of us."

"Ooh, what is it?" Tony asked, dropping the heating mechanism he'd been working on and practically bouncing over to Bruce's station.

"Tony, please, just... Don't get your hopes up, okay?" Bruce sighed, pushing his hand written notes across the steel table top. Both Bruce and Pepper shared the annoying habit of using the archaic means of pen and paper, even at Tony's insistence that they both take his custom tablets.

He skimmed over the scratch, quickly processing everything and coming to a conclusion. "Beta blockers?"

That earned a small nod. "I'm trying to make something that'll dampen the Hulk's response triggers, but so far nothing has worked. And even if it did, chances are it'd be too strong and cause erectile dysfunction, which kind of defeats the purpose."

Tony laughed a little at that, but nodded. "Got my hopes up and dashed them on the rocks, all in one go. Gotta be a record, doc," he said, handing back the note book.

"Yeah, that's why I wasn't telling you," Bruce said, mouth twisted in a displeased line.

Tony groaned. That look of utter self depreciation would be the end of him. He dropped to the floor and crawled under the table, popping up in front of Bruce's chair. Before the rumpled man could argue he'd nuzzled into his stomach, settling between his knees and wrapping his arms around his lower back. "When're you gonna get that I don't just like you. I like like you like you," he mumbled into the fabric. "I'm kind of in this for the long haul, if you haven't noticed. We'll figure something out eventually. And even if we don't it doesn't matter. You're worth more than sex to me. I can get that anywhere, but in case you haven't noticed there isn't exactly a dating service for dysfunctional geniuses. Really, how many people do you think can sit in the lab with me for endless hours, and in fact can one up me in the fascinating experiments department? Even Pepper can't do that, and she's probably the only other person on the planet besides you who puts up with me." He looked up finally, caramel eyes meeting speechless brown. "I want you, and I don't want you thinking you have to go all angsty and run off on me just because I have to practice restraint. Hell, I'm willing to be celibate for you. That's like un-fucking-heard of." Tony stared up at him for a moment longer, then rolled his eyes. "Say something."

Bruce jumped and focused. Then he grabbed Tony by a handful of his shirt and pulled him up, smashing their lips together with a small desperate noise. He pulled Tony forward until he straddled his lap. Still a bit startled by the sudden change he went on instinct and ground himself down, earning a muffled grunt as Bruce arched his hips up.

Tony gasped when he felt hands undoing his button and sliding into his jeans. "Stand up," Bruce ordered in a low murmur, and the philanthropist eagerly complied, leaning back against the table and licking his lips in anticipation.

Bruce stood and slid his t-shirt up, running his hands over lightly tanned skin and up until Tony lifted his arms and just threw the fabric away. He didn't fail to notice Bruce swallow. "I really do hope we figure something out eventually, because this is driving me insane," he sighed, running his mouth across skin, slowly grazing down as he kneeled.

"You know you don't have to do this," Tony said.

He felt the pull of a smile against his stomach, then the tell tale feel of a zipper being undone. "I try to avoiding doing things I don't want to do." He pulled the denim down, dragging underwear with it. "And just to let you know, the only reason I don't do this more often is because it affects my pulse too." His mouth hovered over the tip, one corner quirked up in a smirk. "I don't think I'd be able to keep my hands off otherwise." Then full lips slid over the head and down, slowly covering his entire length with steady hum.

Tony couldn't tear his eyes away, watching as he disappeared repeatedly into skilled mouth, dexterous hands following the motion. His knuckles turned white from the iron grip on table edge. He didn't think Bruce would be able to tolerate any sort of rough control, and he certainly didn't want to risk cutting this short, so he held still.

Bruce had other things in mind though, pulling his hips forward gently, enough to push Tony just that little bit closer to his throat. He glanced up to show eyes a solid shade of brown, a sign of perfect control, and the man above him just nodded in understanding, fisting one hand in his hair and thrusting forward. Bruce groaned around him, eyes lowering again, and shifted on his knees, getting a higher angle so he wouldn't be gagged.

Tony took the offered liberty and matched shallow thrusts with the other scientist's steady motion, reaching his peak and frantically patting Bruce on the shoulder in warning. His eyes flicked up one last time to watch, and Tony almost choked on his own voice.

Acid green.

He came with a breathy moan, barely catching the table in time to keep himself standing. Bruce took the majority of his weight, holding him up by his thighs as his vision went white.

"God damn," Tony gasped, collapsing to his elbows.

Bruce nodded. "Do you want to sit?" he asked, leaning a little to the side so he could have the chair, sprawling bonelessly into it. He stood and took up Tony's old spot, leaning against the table with a satisfied expression.

"Cat who ate the canary," Tony accused. "You've got something right here, by the way," he smirked, indicating a spot on his own mouth. Bruce raised his eyebrows and swiped the drop up with his thumb, examined it for a moment, then licked it away. Tony just gaped. "You're probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and that's saying something," he breathed.

Bruce just blushed. "You should probably put your pants back on," he suggested.

"Mm, or I could just sit here and bask in the after glow."

"What about your coffee machine?" he teased.

Tony just threw his hands up. "I'll have to survive without it."


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce shuffled into the kitchen with a towel over his head, drying the moisture from his hair while he fished a bottle of water out of the fridge. Natasha had been teaching him some more advanced, two person yoga moves, and he had worked up a sweat. He'd cracked the lid and was taking a long drink when he looked over and saw the living room was occupied. Clint was sitting cross legged on the longest sofa, a game controller in his hands, face set in silent concentration. The television was on mute, which explained why Bruce hadn't noticed sooner, so he wandered over to see Agent Phil Coulson, sleeping curled up with his head on the archer's lap.

Clint glanced up at him, then back to the screen, hitting the pause button. "Hey doc, Tasha trying to kill you with complicated stretching?"

Bruce smiled briefly and flopped onto the empty love seat. "Something like that. How's he doing?" he asked, nodding at the still sleeping Coulson.

The Hawk smiled and looked down, resting a hand on the other man's neck. "He's tired, sleeps a lot, and the pain meds don't help, but he's healing." His finger tips trailed down his back, thumb absently running over where he knew the scar from the entry wound was. "He gets impatient. I don't think he's ever gone so long without working. Stir crazy doesn't even begin to cover it."

Bruce nodded, pursing his lips. "He have any hobbies?"

Clint snorted. "Phil defines workaholism. Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that he loves what he does, but he doesn't really show many interests outside of it. Aside from his Captain America collection at least. And no, it totally doesn't give me an inferiority complex," he finished with an eye roll.

"Of course," Bruce chuckled. "You could try getting him interested in something you like. Do you have hobbies?"

He hefted the controller. "I'm either working or doing things to turn my brain off. I'm pretty much just as bad."

"I think we're all guilty of that, honestly."

"Probably."

"But you should make the most of it. If you intend to be together for any length of time, which I'm sure you do, then you can both develop new interests together, things you share. You have a good foundation from your history, now you can build on it."

Clint blinked at him, then grinned. "Somehow I didn't expect you to give good relationship advice." Bruce frowned a little at that. "Not because of the other guy or anything," Clint amended, "but, and I say this will all the endearment I can manage, you're a nerd, I would just expect you to be awkward when it comes to dating. But thanks though, you're right. I'll think about it."

"Think about what?" Tony questioned, just having popped up at the top of the stairs, coated in grease, hair stuck up at odd angles.

They both gave him a slightly stupefied look. "Nothing important," Bruce answered. "Have you slept?" Tony hadn't come to bed last night, but he'd assured Bruce he'd a least nap in the available cot in his lab.

"Uuhhhm, maybe. I think. Certain hours I can't really remember, so I assume I slept then."

"Jarvis, has Tony slept at all?" Bruce asked ceiling.

"No, sir, he has not. He has, however, consumed several energy drinks, and pots of coffee."

Bruce sighed and stood. "Come on Tony, you need a shower, and a nap. Talk to you later Clint." The archer waved aimlessly, soothing a briefly disturbed Coulson before unpausing his game.

"I don't want to nap," Tony complained as Bruce steered him inside their bedroom and closed the door. "I'm in the middle of a massive brain storm. And sleeping is bad."

Bruce patiently ignored him. "I'll let you shower with me," he offered.

"Tease," Tony grumbled. "Getting me all worked up, then leaving me alone to sleep by myself."

"Unlike some people I actually got a decent nights sleep, so I don't need a nap. And if you wanted to sleep with me you could have come to bed last night."

"Spiteful."

"Maybe a little. Come on, take your clothes off and get in the water."

Tony continued to mumble things about teasing spiteful boyfriends, but did as he was told, stepping into the waterfall shower. Bruce just took off his gym clothes and tossed them in the hamper, following him into the tiled room. "How do you get this covered in grease?" he wondered out loud, trying to run his fingers through tangled hair and failing.

"I dunno," Tony said, grabbing onto Bruce's waist and nuzzling his shoulder, kissing the smooth skin. "Has something to do with the creative process."

The physicist just sighed and grabbed a palm full of shampoo from the automatic dispenser. "I'm surprised you don't have dread locks," he said, working his hair into a lather. He carefully undid as many tangles he could find, earning small pleased noises as Tony relaxed against him. "Lean back," Bruce instructed.

"No, comfortable," he resisted, wrapping his arms tighter and pressing closer, making it very obvious how happy he was to be there.

"You'll get shampoo in your eyes."

"Fine," he huffed, separating and quickly rinsing the suds out. "There, now come here."

They finished showering, Tony nearly falling asleep towards the end, and Bruce aimed the exhausted billionaire at their bed. "Stay with me," Tony asked once he was comfortably beneath the covers.

Bruce smiled. "I think I can do that. But you actually have to sleep," he said, sliding under the blanket next to his mostly naked boyfriend. He was already falling asleep and just wrapped an arm around Bruce's stomach in agreement.

They were woken later that day by Steve knocking on their door. "Fury called a meeting," he said when a disgruntled Stark answered the door. "Get dressed, we're waiting."

Twenty minutes later they were all congregated down on the tenth floor, in what had become the central conference room of Shield's ground division. And Thor was there.

They'd been sitting around the table in silence, waiting for Fury to just show up already, Tony with his hands clasped around a mug of steaming black liquid, Clint looking tense and impatient. He didn't like being away from Phil for too long, even though Jarvis was set to alert them if he had any needs while they were away. Natasha, Bruce, and Steve were all relatively patient though.

Then Thor burst into the room in his normal loud fashion, followed by Fury. Neither of them looked pleased.

"Something has come up," Fury said, skipping any preamble. Then he relinquished the floor to the god.

"My father has decided to banish Loki as punishment for his crimes," Thor said solemnly. "He will be stripped of his abilities and sent to reside on Midgard indefinitely, until he has learned the gravity of his actions."

Fury continued before the eruption could begin. "Obviously we can't allow a war criminal to run loose, no matter how devoid of power he may be. Loki will be kept in Shield's care, until such a time he's deemed fit for society."

Hawkeye spoke first. "Will he be mortal?"

Fury looked to Thor, who nodded. "My father felt it apt that he suffer the same trials of mortality as the humans he would subjugate."

Fury had his eye narrowed at Clint. "I hope you're not planning anything, Agent Barton," he said, tone menacing.

He just looked up at the director, expression unreadable. "No plans, sir."

"Good. Because I'd hate to think of the turmoil it would cause if a prince of Asgard were to come to harm while in Shield's hands." He glared around the group. "That goes for all of you."

"Ex-prince," Tony quipped. "I mean, I'm just assuming he's not really royalty any more."

"He is still my brother, and I will not have him harmed," the true prince said darkly.

Steve, ever their practical leader, spoke up. "When will he be here?"

Still standing with his arms crossed at the head of the table, Thor lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "As soon as preparations here are complete."

"The end of the week," Fury answered. "We'll have everything ready and meet you in New Mexico with a prisoner transport on Friday."

"What exactly needs to be done?" Tony asked. "I mean, without his powers, he's about as dangerous as a speak and spell."

"Anyone who's attempted world domination will be treated as a top threat, Stark. And Loki is still a master manipulator. We need to be cautious with him." No one missed the way his eye flicked to Bruce, however briefly it lingered.

"Now that's just not fair," Tony snapped. "That staff was messing with all of us. Somehow I doubt his powers of manipulation are really that good without it."

"Loki was born with a silver tongue," Thor said ominously. "Even as children he bent others to his will. The staff does not seed discord, it can only make the effects stronger." He took a breath then, melancholy pulling at every line of his form while he looked around at them. "But I feel I should warn you that my brother will likely not be himself for some time. His banishment is only a part of his retribution, for his actions on your world. But the All Father feels disgraced and has chosen to punish Loki for his crimes on Asgard. The means can only be described as torture, and while he has come out physically unscathed, I fear his mind is unbalanced. He is unpredictable, and must be treated with the utmost caution and care."

"Your dad drove him insane?" Tony frowned. "That's kind of harsh."

Clint scoffed. "Not harsh enough," he growled, refraining from saying exactly what he thought should have been done.

"I don't think insane is the correct word," Thor said slowly. "Anxious I think would be more fitting. With time he will regain his old behavior, but its unclear how soon, or by how much."

"Wouldn't him regaining his old behavior sort of be a bad thing? I mean, old Loki behavior made him try to enslave the human race."

"Shut up Stark," Fury snapped. "We'll make sure to keep this in mind Thor, thanks for the heads up." Then he looked around at the group. "You're all free to go, I'll let you know what your assignments are when I've thought of them, if anything."

"I'm afraid I must return to Asgard immediately," Thor said when they'd all shuffled out of the conference room.

"Well we've got a lot to tell you when you get back, buddy," Tony said, smacking him on the back on the way past. "We'll throw a party."

Thor nodded. "I'll bring the mead," he said, and none of them were sure if he was joking or not.

The five of them rode up in the private elevator, leaving Thor to take one of Shield's to ground level so he could fly away, and gathered in the communal living room. Clint went to his room and found Phil sitting up in bed reading through a stack of papers. "That's not work related is it?" Clint asked.

He smiled a little and set the papers on the nightstand, swinging his legs over and putting his feet on the floor. "It might look that way," he replied, smiling faintly.

He tisked a little, but held out his hand. "Come on, we've got some news," he said, pulling him to his feet.

Bruce put a casserole in the oven that he'd thrown together earlier and the six of them settled around the large glass dining table. Clint was clearly on edge, and none of them were sure how to broach the subject.

Finally Coulson just shook his head and gave that enigmatic smile. "This is about Loki, right?" They all blinked at him owlishly. "The director let me know before he called you down."

Tony gave an 'it figures' eye roll, but Steve spoke before he could get off his sarcastic remark. "You're okay with it? With Loki being in the tower?"

"He'll be under constant watch. And to be honest I didn't really take this," he gestured at his chest,"personally. I'm going to kick his ass when I'm able to. But in the mean time yes, I'm okay with it. I'd rather have him where he can be monitored." While speaking he had taken Clint's hand and was drawing small circles on the back with his thumb, and he glanced down at it with a smile. "I do appreciate everyones concern, but it is unwarranted."

"I still want to put an arrow through his eye," Clint grumbled. Natasha and Tony were both inclined to agree. Even Bruce had to agree a little, even though he kept it to himself. He hadn't been entirely pleased when he'd heard that Tony had been thrown out a window.

Phil managed to be the voice of reason. "We'll have plenty of time to get revenge with him indefinitely banished here," he said, earning a pleased smirk from Clint.

"As long as he doesn't die," Steve corrected.

There were hums, and eye rolls, but everyone consented, mostly. "We'll see," Clint grumbled.


	8. Chapter 8

"Bruce! Wake up!"

He muttered unintelligibly and turned away from the voice. It was too early to be awake, he was sure. But it was damnably persistent. "Seriously, wake up, I've got something to show you."

He turned his head enough to crack open one eye. Tony was grinning from ear to ear, kneeling next to Bruce and visibly bouncing. "What?"

"Get up and come with me. Don't bother getting dressed."

"...Have you been up all night again?"

"Yes, but you'll agree it was worth it, I'm sure. Now come on, get up." Tony was actually pulling on his arm, doing a very good impression of a kid on Christmas morning.

"Fine, fine, I'm up," he huffed, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head with a groan. Then he looked his boyfriend over with a critical eye. His hair was standing out at odd gravity defying angles, like usual after a night spent working, and bruises surrounded his eyes, making the overgrown stubble seem even more haggard. He wasn't coated in a layer of grease though, which meant he probably hadn't been working with any machinery that was too dangerous. Though in the hands of Anthony Stark, any straight off the shelf smart phone could be a potential hazard.

"Quit staring at me and get out of bed," an impatient Tony insisted.

"Shouldn't you be jumping up and down on the bed or something?"

That got a blank expression. "What?"

Bruce blinked. "Like when a kid wakes his parents up on Christmas morning and jumps on their bed until they get up and open gifts?"

"Oh. Yeah, I never did that."

Bruce shrugged. "Yeah. Its in all the movies though."

Tony nodded, perhaps more rapidly than normal. "Yeah. But we can talk about our fucked up childhoods later. Let's go." And with that he bodily pulled Bruce out of the bed. He dragged him, awkwardly stumbling, all the way to the elevator, hitting the button for the penthouse.

"The construction is done?" Bruce asked.

"Technically its been done since Monday, everything has just been drying and curing and such. And the interior decorators have been here. But that's not the point, just wait until you see what I've made."

Bruce stared at him inquisitively for a minute, but Tony wasn't giving away any hints, so he just waited patiently until the elevator drifted to a stop and the doors slid open. He was taken by the hand an lead excitedly through the living area, into another door, and down a series of halls. Finally they stopped in front of a door that would have escaped his notice if it hadn't been for the series of thorough security measures surrounding it. "What is this?"

Tony just smiled inscrutably and went through the steps until the door wooshed back. He actually got a nervous expression then, taking Bruce's hand. Then he pulled him inside and the door closed again.

It was a room, barely bigger than an average walk in closet, plain grey cement walls, and a control panel headed by a row of screens. The most decorative thing in there was the rolling leather desk chair. And there was another door. A very solid looking door, something that would be more appropriate on a vault. Again Bruce asked, "What is this?" just as confused as ever.

Tony sat down and the screens flickered to life with his skilled conducting. "I just finished the final touches on the programming last night. Of course I'm sure there'll be some bugs to work out, but that'll only come out with some beta testing, but the only way to do that is to let you use it. You're the only person who can use this to its full extent."

"Tony, I honestly don't know what's going on," Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair and scratching at the back of his head.

"I made you a Hulk out room. Well, I had three put in, technically. One is in the labs, the other is in our room. But those are basically just reinforced rooms in case of emergencies. This though, this one is special." He tweaked a few more settings, then hit a button and the steal door popped open, swinging slowly to bump into the wall perpendicular. Now Bruce could see that the steal vault look was more like a face, and the inside was made of the same clear material as his cell on the helicarrier had been. Then there was another layer of some matte grey material.

"Its a simulation room," Tony said finally. "I got to thinking that you need to let the other guy out to be able to relax. But then I realized that letting him out in just a plain old room is a false sense of freedom. And half the reason he'd be tired after fighting anyway is that he gets to smash things, he's fulfilling his purpose. So I'm hoping that a simulation will fool him into being satisfied enough to let you let go a little."

Bruce just stared at him with wide eyes, honestly dumbfounded. Tony really had thought of everything. "Tony," he breathed, "this is brilliant."

"It may not work though. I mean, everything will just be holograms, I haven't quite finished the solid dummies yet. I'm also working on some cheap robots he could have fun destroying. Basically it'll be a faux battle room, all said and done. Oh, it also does peaceful, so you can meditate in here. I'm developing some programs to help your control too. Not that you don't have amazing amounts of restraint already, I was just thinking of things you'd want to use it for. But I'll need your input for that. Now, get in the room."

"What?"

"The room. Go inside so we can test it out. You don't have to Hulk out right now, I just want you to see it in action. You'll appreciate the detail more than Hulk anyway." Tony spoke while he folded back into the chair, already turning back to the console.

Bruce nodded and stepped through the reinforced vault door. The ceiling was high, easily three stories, maybe even four, but it was hard to tell with the unmarked grey walls. He ran a hand over the wall just inside the door, finding it was solid, but had a silky texture.

The door shut behind him with a series of deep thunks, signaling it was locked into place. Bruce flinched at the noise and looked over his shoulder. Then Tony's voice came over the invisible PA system. "It responds to your biosignature and locks automatically when you enter."

"How do I get it to open again?" he asked warily.

"Just ask. Jarvis has control of the system when I'm not here, so when you get done just ask and he'll let you runs automatically too, just in case you're about to lose it and can't program it yourself. But the automatic programs can get predicatable,so its more fun if I'm here to spice things up, make things interesting. Now, brace yourself and don't freak out."

Everything flickered to life around him, buzzing statically until solidifying into plain white. Then the white began to bleed color, changing to a green landscape of hills, bright blue sky and picturesque clouds. Everything was a little pixilated at first, but then it was like the whole room gave a great heave and everything settled. Even the floor mimicked the pattern of grass.

Bruce bent down and ran his fingers over the floor, finding it was still the same hard silken texture, and the projection stayed steady. Faux sunlight filtered from a bright spot in the ceiling, representing the sun. Then noise started up, the distant quiet sound of wind. The only thing missing was actual air movement.

Tony must have read his thoughts then because his voice came over the speaker again, overlaying the mimicked wind. "I know the other guy is pretty perceptive, so I'm still working on getting air circulation to time up with the sound. And I plan on developing scent dispensers. Eventually this will be able to fool all your senses."

"What about running into walls," Bruce asked while he walked out into the center, spinning slowly. Even the door had disappeared under the illusion.

"Well, that is the biggest problem. But I'm hoping that Hulk will be distracted enough by my eventual robot minions that he'll just stay away from the walls entirely. And plus, check this out." Tony changed the settings again and the grassy hills faded back to white, before changing into a city scape. "I probably should have started with this one," Tony mused over the speakers. "I admit, it doesn't do flora so well yet. But its pretty good at buildings. I'd actually be more concerned with Hulk hitting the ceiling."

Bruce smiled and nodded. Hulk liked to climb, and jump. He really was like a big kid, who happened to throw really bad temper tantrums. He walked up to the left hand wall and touched the 'brick' of a building. The texture was off, but Hulk was more big picture, and his skin didn't have the same sensitivity as Bruce's did, so that difference would likely go unnoticed. "How much did this cost you to develop?" he asked.

He could just imagine Tony's blase shrug. "Does it matter? This is never-been-done-before stuff, I can make a profit on it in no time. Do you like it?"

"Its brilliant and you know it. And you know I think it is."

"What's the but here?"

"It may not work for what you're hoping. Can I come out?" The door popped open as soon as he asked, and he stepped back out to find Tony sitting with a leg thrown over the arm of the chair.

"I'm kind of prepared for that," he said. "But its worth a try. And my investors were getting pissy anyway, they've been impatient about me not coming up with anything new recently. Say I've been to preoccupied with being Iron Man. Excuse me for helping save the world. But whatever, one way or another this is a good thing."

Bruce nodded while he crossed his arms. "I'll let Hulk give it a proper try later, after you've slept."

A scowl came to his face at that. "I can sleep when its done."

"Well, I'm going back to sleep, so if you need me to finish it then you're out of luck."

"Mean."

"No, I'm acting as your preservation instinct because you seem to have been born without one."

"I traded it for genius. And self preservation is for pansies."

"Well then this pansy is going back to bed," Bruce said with a chuckle.

Tony huffed and dragged himself off the chair. "Fine, I'll sleep, but only for a few hours. Two. Maybe three, tops."

He sighed, but smiled. "It's better than nothing I suppose."

Bruce sat cross legged in the center of the simulation room later that day, eyes closed, waiting patiently for Tony to pick a scene. Their idea was that the more caught off Bruce was, the more Hulk would be, which would help make the simulation seem more real to his alter-ego. So he sat with his eyes closed, until his other senses registered a change in environment.

Suddenly the temperature dropped, and Bruce caught the smell of snow in the air. His brow furrowed in concentration. There was also salt, and slowly sound started to register. Was that wind? Now, water, definitely water, waves actually, crashing against a shore. And the air just kept getting colder. Then he could actually feel mist on his skin and his eyes snapped open.

He was on a coast, rocky and lonely, sitting on a huge slab of black stone. The sky was steely grey above, as was the sea before him, merging into one another in a nearly imperceptible line. He slowly climbed to his feet, turning in a circle to see that there was nothing behind him but an expanse of tall yellowed dune grass, soaked and desolate in the whether.

The salt mist began to soak his clothing, and he started to shiver. At the first sign of distress he could feel the Hulk stir in the back of his mind, concern for his host bringing him out of hibernation. Bruce clenched his teeth briefly, then forced himself to relaxed, letting the barrier open between him and the Hulk just a crack.

Then he focused on the water again and froze on the spot. There were things, barely breaking the surface, watching him, bobbing with the waves. Occasionally they would disappear when a larger wave came crashing up on the rocks, but it seemed as if one more appeared every time. His skin tingled with fear, and a growl sounded through his mind.

A wave came up then, larger than average, and when it pulled back a huge slimy grey figure was wriggling on the stone. It righted itself and crawled forward at an alarming pace, and Bruce's heart rate sky rocketed, pumping adrenalin through his system. He vaguely registered that the creature had humanoid features before Hulk ripped his way out with a roar.

Bruce came to a time later, he wasn't sure how long had passed, and he was staring up at the distant greyness of the simulation room ceiling. He was sprawled eagle near the far right hand wall, breathing deeply.

Then he noticed Tony was sitting next to him, cross legged and looking entirely pleased with himself. "Morning sunshine," he grinned.

He said the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be the same think he'd last thought before the Hulk took over. "What the fuck was that?"

"Mermaids. I wasn't sure what to start with, but that one went over well I think," he replied, still looking self satisfied.

"Well," he grunted as he sat up,"I think I have a new phobia. I really hope those don't turn out to be real."

"They aren't to my knowledge. I based it on some pretty awful mythology though. And Thor is real, so who knows. We'll ask tomorrow." Bruce gave him a slightly horrified look at that. "Its safe to say the Hulk is prepared in that eventuality though. So how're you feeling?"

Bruce paused and poked at the area where he kept his counterpart, and got nothing more than a disinterested presence in response. So he nodded and smiled slowly. "I think he's out for the count."

Tony arched an eye brow and smirked. "Perfect."


	9. Chapter 9

Tony promptly took advantage of Bruce's nudity by leaning forward and licking a line across his lower stomach. Bruce jerked up off the floor a little from the sudden sensation, then let out a shuddering breath as he lowered back down. He closed his eyes and forced his attention away from the feeling of lips and tongue and teeth running over his skin, forced his breathing into some semblance of steadiness. But then a wet heat ran over one of his nipples and there was simply no ignoring that. By the time Tony made it up to Bruce's mouth the physicist was nearly writhing with need. When their lips finally met he couldn't contain the moan that slipped out, and he instinctively pulled Tony closer so he was fully straddling his lap.

Tony squirmed down happily, but the rough fabric of his jean against certain sensitive parts made Bruce tense. "Ow," he murmured against his lips.

Rolling away, Tony managed to shimmy out of his jeans and underwear in record time, throwing his shirt away as he resettled in Bruce's lap. It was here that he just had to pause for a moment and commit the sight before his to memory. Bruce, disheveled, eyes glazed and lust filled, skin flushed, lips swollen and glistening, a dashing of red marks over his neck and chest. And not a hint of green to be seen. It was beautiful.

Bruce squirmed then and couldn't help the blush that came to his cheeks under the scrutiny. "What?"

Tony sighed and leaned forward on one hand. "You don't even know what you look like," he said, then quickly kissed him to silence any questions.

"Think I'm beginning to suspect," Bruce managed to say once Tony had begun to move down his body. God, his tongue could do some amazing things, when he'd stopped talking long enough. "You've studied anatomy, right?"

Tony hummed in acquiescence. "Why do you ask," he murmured against the skin just below his belly button, one hand absently massaging a spot on Bruce's inner thigh.

"It seems like you have good knowledge of erogenous points, though I suppose that could be more from experience than study," Bruce replied, 'study' coming out in three syllables as Tony's hand moved higher.

He lifted his head and smirked. "It's experience. And I suppose it's too much to ask you to turn your brain off for a little while."

"Not possible right no- Ah fuck!" he gasped as Tony interrupted, by going down on him. When he managed to see again, he found Tony happily nestled between his legs, eyes hooded, in his own world.

Then he felt something that he'd been dreading. That small shift in his mind, like something moving just on the edge of his peripheral vision, that let him know the Hulk's interest had been piqued. "Oh shit."

Tony glanced up at that and found green looking back at him. He pulled back, licking his lips. "You okay?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to stop?"

But before Bruce could give it any thought, Jarvis interrupted. "I'm very sorry sir, but you have an incoming call from director Fury. It seems urgent."

Tony stared at Bruce for a moment as he considered his options, then said, "shit," and sat back with a huff.

Bruce shifted and sat up, drawing his legs into a criss cross. "Did he say what it is?"

"No sir, but Miss Potts and Mr. Rogers are both searching for you two."

"Well fuck," Tony sighed, glancing over at Bruce longingly. His eyes were still flecked with acid.

"Sir, Mr. Rogers is in the penthouse. Shall I direct him to your location?"

Tony groaned. "Damn it Jarv, you can be such a cock blocker."

"Fury is threatening to override my protocols."

"Fucking hell, answer then," Tony snapped, standing and jerking on his underwear and jeans again. "And tell Steve to go back downstairs, Bruce is naked and that would probably scar his psyche."

"You don't keep spare clothes around here?" Bruce asked as he climbed to his feet.

"No, clothing would just get in the way of what I had in mind."

"Stark, why the fuck can no one find you when you're actually needed?" Fury's voice came over the speakers.

"Why exactly am I needed?"

"Thor and Loki arrived early. Get your ass up to the roof, in the suit, a jet is waiting. And bring Banner with you."

"What, why?" Bruce asked, startled.

"You're part of the transport, Doctor. Your presence will help to keep Loki in check. Now both of you get to the roof ASAP."

"I don't recall roof privileges being part of our deal," Tony grumbled, but Fury had already cut the connection. "Fucking hang ups! When did saying bye just stop being a thing!"

Bruce laughed as he handed Tony back his T-shirt. "Where can I find some pants around here?"

Tony guided them to his, now their, room, and couldn't help but be a little side tracked once there.

"Mm, Tony," Bruce hummed, "you're making this a little difficult." He was leaning with his hands on the dresser in the walk in closet, and Tony was behind him, doing distracting things. He'd barely managed to get on a pair of pants before Tony was trying to slide them back down.

"That's the point," he murmured, lips trailing over his still bare shoulder, up to his neck. "Tell me something though."

"Hm, what?" Bruce asked, leaning his head to the left a little to give more room.

"If Fury hadn't interrupted, would we have been able to…" He trailed off, not sure of the best way to word it. Go all the way?

Bruce blinked slowly and thought about it. "I don't know," he said eventually. He glanced back over his shoulder, met Tony's questioning eyes. "We can talk about it later tonight."

Tony nodded, then broke contact. "I have to go get in the suit," he said. He turned and had a foot out the door when he paused turned back. He grabbed Bruce gently by the back of his hair and turned his head, leaning over and kissing him firmly on the lips.

When he pulled back Bruce had a small smile in his eyes. "Possessive," he said.

"Damn straight. See you on the roof."

Bruce finished dressing, choosing a plain grey t-shirt on the off chance that it might get destroyed, and met the jet on the roof. Natasha was in the pilot's seat, Steve standing just behind her, and Clint stretch over three of the seats and the left hand side.

Fury gestured for Clint to move his legs as he headed for the ramp. " ," he greeted Bruce with a handshake. Bruce smiled when he noticed Clint stick his tongue out in the background. "Where's Stark?"

"Last I saw he was going to get his suit on. He should be up soon."

"Where were you two anyway?" Steve asked once Bruce had sat down, opposite the archer, who snorted at the question.

"You probably don't want to know, Cap," Clint said. Steve frowned a bit, then his cheeks tinted pink and he nodded.

Bruce simply blushed and kept quiet. A moment later a red and gold blur came flying over the edge of the roof, landing with a heavy thud a few yards away from the jet.

"About time," Fury said.

"Missed you too, cupcake," Tony snarked back, flipping his face plate up. "So explain what happened."

Fury walked them into the jet and the ramp closed."Thor misjudged the day and came early. At least that's the assumption."

"Misjudge the-? How?"

"We'll find out when we get there, wont we?"

As it turns out, coming early had been deliberate. When their jet had arrived, they'd found Thor still standing in the circle left by the bifrost, a cloaked figure standing at his shoulder. A string of local agents had set up a perimeter, keeping a handful of the local authorities at bay. Fury went over to shoo them off while the rest went to Thor, recompleting the team.

Fury came back once the police cars had left. "Want to explain what happened?" he said, more demanding than asking.

"We had to depart sooner than anticipated," Thor stated obviously.

"I got that. Why?"

Thor sighed in displeasure. "It seems the citizens of Asgard were dissatisfied with Loki's punishment. They don't feel it harsh enough. And when they heard of his banishment there was an uproar. They call for his death. Two attempts have been made on his life since the verdict, so I felt it would be best for his safety if we left early."

Bruce's eyes flicked to the still cloaked person. "They tried to kill him? They actually disagreed with Odin? I didn't know that happened."

"It's uncommon, normally the people are content to trust the All Father's judgment. But they have no trouble expressing when they disagree. I'm certain this will smooth over with time, but for now…" He trailed off with a slight shrug, then turned and looked back. It was then that they noticed a chain running from the hammer on Thor's belt, to the shackles surrounding pale wrists, all that wasn't covered by heavy grey clothe.

"Holy crap, did you actually bring mead?" Tony asked, the first to spot the small barrel at knee level.

Thor looked at it, then at Tony with a grin only slightly less luminescent than usual. "I did say I would."

"Awesome," he said, hefting it easily. Then he spotted Fury's irate expression. "What?"

"This is a prisoner transport, not a keger."

"Yeah, because the prisoner really looks like he's about to bolt," he scoffed, jerking a thumb at the stiff, covered figure of Loki.

"Just try to act professional, Stark," Fury sighed. Then everyone flocked around the two gods, the local agents dispersed, and they boarded the jet, in the air again like it had never even landed.

Within three hours they were situated again in Stark tower, and the Avengers were being briefed on their responsibilities for their prisoner. Or rather, Thor and Clint were arguing with Fury over the security measures, which Thor felt too excessive, and Clint too lax.

The arrangements were that Loki would be kept in a holding cell until he was evaluate by a number of professionals, until it was decided that he wouldn't be an immediate threat to himself or others, in which case he'd be let 'free', but was to be kept under constant supervision by at least one member of the Avengers team at any given time, not including Thor, who's priorities and loyalties were considered unstable due to family ties.

Arguments flew around the room and Fury was fed up with it. "Okay okay, both of you just shut up and listen. I've given this plenty of thought, and these arrangements are as fair and balanced as I can possibly make them. I'm not changing my mind. Now, everyone get out of my office."

They filed out, most relieved for it to be over.

After everyone had changed into civilian clothes they met in the living area, some gathered near the bar while Tony tried to figure out how to tap the keg of mead.

"Is this really the time for that?" Steve sighed.

"It's always the time for mead," Thor answered, scowling at the barrel.

"I don't know if I have anything specifically for this," Tony said, tilting it to examine the bottom.

"Tony," Bruce called, getting his attention from where he sat on the sofa. "You're over complicating it. All you need is a bore bit." Then he gestured. "Come sit though."

He pursed his lips and eyed the keg for a moment longer, then nodded. "Tomorrow, big guy," he said, patting Thor on the back as he went to the couch.

Thor nodded and followed, taking up an entire loveseat in a casual sprawl. Tony folded down onto the couch next to Bruce, who reached out and laced his fingers through the back of the billionaire's hair. They smiled at one another, then noticed Thor's curiously arched eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, remember how I said we had a lot to tell you?" Tony started. Then the elevator opened and Phil walked out, followed by a fidgeting Clint. "Yeah, that's probably the biggest part."

Thor stared, mouth hanging open, then jumped to his feet and strode to the agent, folding him into a gentle bear hug.

After a basic explanation (the miracle or modern medicine, Tony said) and a series of near-tearful apologies on his brother's behalf, Thor sat again, in an armchair this time, leaving the love seat for Coulson and Barton. Natasha was curled in the chair next to Thor's, and Steve sat cross legged on the carpet in front of the fire place.

Their team was whole again.

Eventually Thor began to nod off, and they all agreed it was time for bed, so Tony guided everyone to their new rooms on the penthouse level while Bruce went to theirs and got settled. By the time Tony made it back Bruce had already undressed and was sitting cross legged in the center of the massive bed, reading a book he'd gotten from the billionaire's 'just because I can' collection of rare and expensive volumes. It was one of the few Tony hadn't tried to sell off when he'd thought he was dying.

"Super soldiers and spies," Tony grumbled. "Complainers, all of them." He fell backwards onto the bed, head landing near Bruce's knee.

Bruce smiled softly and pulled the ribbon into place on the tome before flipping it closed. "What happened?" he asked, reaching out and toying with an errant strand of the ex-playboy's hair.

Tony squirmed until his head rested on Bruce's folded legs. "Cap had me move him to the other side of the building so the rising sun doesn't wake him up. And Clint didn't like the layout of his and Phil's room. I had to stand there and wait for them to do their whole quietly-bickering-but-really-having-an-argument thing. And Natasha just kind of stared blankly, which I took to be her disapproving look, until I offered to move her too. Thor just passed out though. Something messed up with a god being the easiest one to please." Bruce just smirked down at him. "What?"

"You made sure everyone likes their rooms. Anthony Stark, I do believe that means you care, and not just in a 'hope you don't die' way."

Tony blinked, then frowned. "Crap, you're right. Now they'll expect better of me."

"It's a travesty."

"It is," Tony sighed, tapping the fingers of one hand on his stomach. He pursed his lips in thought, then shook his head and craned his neck to get a glimpse at the book Bruce had left on the bed. "Watcha' reading anyway?"

"Oh," he held it up to show the cover. "Norse mythology, thought it'd be helpful, considering."

"I don't know how accurate any of that will really be," Tony mused.

"Then at the very least it will be funny. There's something in here about an eight legged horse I'm actually curious about, but I think I'll wait to bring that up after things have calmed down." Tony snorted, and his eyes slipped closed when Bruce stared running his fingertips along his scalp, massaging the sore muscles along the back of his neck. "So," Bruce said after a moment, making Tony blink back into alertness. "I was going to apologize for earlier, but it's safe to assume you'll argue with me if I try, so I'll just explain instead.

Tony hummed. "You're learning."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Anyway…I don't think it worked."

"I figured. You have to admit it made a difference though. I noticed a definite increase in control. Before I could barely get to the fun parts without you hitting the breaks. So a definite improvement."

Bruce snorted. "Fun parts. But yes, it did help. But it's not an all the way fix."

"I know, but it's a start."

"Very true."

Bruce went back to massaging and Tony relaxed again, letting his mind drift as careful fingers worked the knots out of his neck and shoulders. "Hm… I love you," he sighed sleepily.

Bruce's hands froze. "Pardon?"

Tony opened his eyes again, then his brows knit in a frown. "Wait, what?"

"… do you realize you said that out loud?"

"I do now," he said, sitting up slowly. "Uhm…"

"You're not going to freak out about this, are you?"

"No, why would I do that? I said it, not you. Not like you're only the second person outside of my family that I've said that to. Okay, maybe not said it, but meant it. That's not something to freak out over." Tony slid off the bed and gestured with his hands as he spoke. "And plus, if I were to freak out, which I'm not, it would make me seem disingenuous, which I'm also not. So no, I am not freaking out."

"Really?" Bruce laughed, "because that's what it looks like you're doing. Come sit back down."

Tony turned and looked at him, sitting in the same spot in the middle of the bed, soft smile on his lips, then climbed back on and sat facing him, mirroring his pose. "I might have freaked out a little," he said.

Bruce nodded. "I noticed."

"In my defense though, it would have helped if you'd said it back instead of going all deer in headlights on me."

"Ah. I wasn't sure if that would help or make it worse."

"Help, definitely help." Tony paused, eyeing Bruce's contemplative expression. "You don't have to though."

The physicist blinked at him, then his eye brows shot up. "Oh, no. No no. I love you, that's not what that was about. I was just trying to think of how many people I've said that to. This might sound a little awkward, but you're the first man I've ever loved."

Tony stared for a moment, then his face split in to a grin. "You're right, that is awkward. But good to know."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."

Tony huffed and laid back, folding his arms behind his head. "Quit being sarcastic and go to sleep."

"You're one to talk about sarcasm," Bruce said with a small snort, but he laid down, stretched out on his stomach, and smirked at the billionaire. "I think I'll give you massages more often, it gets you to say things you wouldn't otherwise."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "That is surprisingly manipulative of you. Jarvis, lights off."

"I know. Good night."

A small laugh sounded in the dark. "Night, Banner." Then, "Oh, don't forget to ask about the mermaids tomorrow."

He got a groan in response.


	10. Chapter 10

"Why doesn't he move?" Bruce asked, looking away from the screen to Thor. Tony had managed to tap into the security camera on Loki's cell, and now the seven of them were sitting around the living room, eating breakfast and watching for any sign of change. As of yet there hadn't been any. Loki hadn't moved from the cells bed since being left there, lying in a motionless heap with his back to the camera.

The god of thunder was sitting on the coffee table, chewing nervously on a pop tart and staring up at the security video like everyone else in the room was. He swallowed and shook his head. "I wish I knew. He's been like this since returning from father's punishment. He barely moves unless forced."

"I can work with that," Clint said, scowling at the pile of blankets that was Loki.

Coulson gave him a reprimanding stare, then looked to Thor and asked, "What exactly was your father's punishment for him? It'll be helpful to for Shield's therapists to know when they try to evaluate him."

Everyone turned to Thor with curious expressions, wanting to know what could have caused so much mental damage to the once confident god of mischief. Thor frowned as he thought about the wording. "Are you aware of a place known as Hel?"

"Hell? As in fire and brimstone Hell?" Clint asked.

"I don't- I suppose there could be fire-"

"No, Hel as in the underworld," Bruce interrupted from where he sat in front of the couch, at Tony's knee with the billionaire's fingers tangled in his hair. He looked over at the god apologetically. "Sorry, I thought it'd be easier."

Thor gave a relinquishing gesture. "No apologies necessary. Please, continue."

"Ah, well, Hel," Bruce spoke to Clint, "is the Norse, or in this case Asgardian, version of the afterlife. Unlike the Abrahamic Hell, which is reserved for punishment, the Norse Hel is where everyone ends up. Anyone who dies journeys to Hel. It's a tangible place though. I can't be sure of the accuracy of any mythology, but supposedly Odin traveled there."

Thor nodded quickly. "He has, several times. The All Father is the only one capable of returning from Hel, or retrieving lost souls."

"Question," Tony spoke up. "If everyone ends up in Hel, what's so bad about it?"

"The nature of the place depends on one's actions in life. So, as you can imagine, it likely wasn't pleasant for my brother. But only he and my father truly know what Loki went through."

"It doesn't sound like something everyone comes back from," Natasha said contemplatively, then elaborated at the slow blink Thor gave her. "I mean, just because someone can be brought back doesn't mean they should be. If their mind is gone, then what's the point?"

"Uh, guys-" Bruce called.

Thor scowled. "His mind isn't gone."

"How can you be sure?" Natasha expression was blank, but her stance was unsympathetic.

"Guys!"

"What?" they both snapped.

Bruce gestured at the screen in exasperation. "He's moving."

Everyone looked. Loki was sitting up on the edge of the bed, staring towards the door. Then a pair of armed guards came into the camera's view. "What are they doing?" Thor asked worriedly. They were in the process of standing Loki up and putting cuffs on him.

"Looks like they're taking him somewhere," Tony said. "Jarvis, follow them so Thor doesn't end up having a panic attack."

The image on the screen flicked and showed the hallway outside Loki's cell as he was led away, then again when they turned the corner. It followed until Loki was hustled into a room, the guards left standing outside the door. "Sir, I believe this is a therapy session. I would advise against eaves dropping," Jarvis chimed in.

"A therapy session?" Thor asked. "What does this mean?"

"I means they're figuring out if he's crazy or not." This came from Clint, who was smirking to himself maliciously.

Phil frowned and pulled out his phone. "I didn't think they'd be starting so soon," he said to himself, dialing and holding it to his ear. "Hey, it's Coulson. What's going on with Loki?... Yeah, but did you really expect him not to?... Yeah, I figured as much… Oh, really?... Sure, I'll relay that… Yep." Then he hung up.

"Did he say bye?" Tony asked before Phil could get a word out. "He hung up on you, right?"

The agent arched an eyebrow. "He never says goodbye, but I wouldn't exactly call it hanging up. It's more for the sake of efficiency."

Bruce was chuckling quietly. "Efficiency my ass," Tony grumbled. "And it's not funny."

"Yes, yes it is," Bruce said, smiling at Tony's glare. Then he looked back to Phil. "What's going on with Loki?"

"Charles Xavier is here to evaluate Loki. He came last minute. He's booked up for the next few weeks so Fury had him come in now."

Various impressed and surprised expressions passed through the group, except for Thor. "Who is Charles Xavier?"

"He's a mutant, a telepath to be specific. He reads minds."

"I wasn't aware such abilities occurred among humans," Thor said, mildly impressed. "Do you think he'll be able to help my brother?"

"That's what makes him a mutant. You know, there's still a lot you need to learn big guy," Tony said, patting Thor on the shoulder amicably. "But yeah, if anyone can help the nut case that is your brother it's Xavier. And don't complain about the nut case comment, you know it's true."

"Bag of cats," Bruce added.

Thor huffed but grudgingly nodded.

"Xavier wants to meet you once he's done with Loki, by the way. Fury told me to send you down," Phil said.

"Me? Why?"

Phil shrugged. "He didn't specify."

Thor sat in a chair outside the room Xavier and Loki were in, tiny waiting room furniture looking entirely too small for his frame. Tony sprawled next to him haphazardly, and Bruce in front of them, perched on the edge of the only available table. It wasn't a very big waiting area. Everyone else had declined to come, but Bruce had wanted to meet the professor, and Tony came for moral support, trying to be a casual unperturbed presence to defuse Thor's nerves. The guards on the door weren't helping the situation though. Thor kept glancing at them, and Tony shot them the occasional irritated look.

"They're just doing their jobs," Bruce murmured when he heard the other two shuffle again. He didn't even have to look up from the magazine he was reading to know Tony was glaring at the uniformed men. Tony just snorted.

"I understand the reasoning," Thor said eventually. "It just saddens me that it's necessary. I remember him as a babe. I remember protecting him when we were children, defending him. But he brings it on himself, and I can't protect him from that. The guards are simply an unpleasant reminder."

Then the door opened and they all looked to find Xavier holding the door for Loki. The guards were on him in an instant, cuffing and ushering him away, but the professor interrupted. "Could you leave him here? I may want to speak to him again once I'm done with his brother."

The guards looked at each other, then one spoke hesitantly. "I don't think we can to do that. We were told to bring him straight back at the end of his session."

"Well, his session isn't technically over until I say it is. And I think you can handle it if he gets out of hand, given the present company." Xavier smiled pleasantly at Bruce and Tony, then gestured for Thor. He promptly jumped to his feet, clapping his brother on the shoulder on the way past, and disappeared into the room.

The guards reluctantly guided Loki to the vacated seat, then backed away until one was guarding either direction down the hallway.

The former god sat tense and curled as far in to the seat as he could get, and the other two men were finally able to get a decent look at him. There were deep circles under his eyes, and his hair hung around his face without finesse, casting odd shadows over his gaunt bone structure. He was very carefully not looking at either of them, simply focusing on the floor, but it was easy to spot the dulled look in his eyes. Even the vibrant emerald green seemed to have faded away to grey. There was no fight left, no cunning, not even fear. Just resignation.

Something very much like guilt settled over Bruce.

Then he frowned and shook his head. Tony arched an eyebrow but decided he's ask later. The three sat in silence, nothing but the sound of air moving through the ducts and the occasional shuffle between them. Eventually Tony whipped out his phone, and Bruce went back to his magazine.

Thankfully Thor emerged quickly, followed by Xavier. The god's face was lost in thought, and Xavier gave him an understanding smile before wheeling over to the other three men. He gave Loki a knowing look, and the downtrodden man actually looked intrigued for a moment, before the guards jumped in and started pulling him away. Thor looked as if he wanted to follow, but grudgingly stayed.

" ," Xavier said, once Bruce was standing before him. "I've wanted to meet you for quite some time. I'm glad to finally get the opportunity." They shook hands and exchanged genial smiles, but Xavier sighed with a distinctly disappointed air. "However, I'm afraid my time here today is nearly up. I'd love to arrange another time to speak with you."

Bruce nodded. "I'd scramble to write my number down for you, but I'm sure you can probably get it pretty easily."

Suddenly two loud pops interrupted them, and they all turned to find a cloud of smoke come down the hallway. Then the sound of a scuffle and dripping purple blur came racing around the corner, immediately going to Thor and hiding behind his bulk. It didn't take long to realize it was Loki, for some reason covered in thick purple paint, then his guards were running after him, with slightly less paint on their uniforms, chattering into their mics. They glared furiously, but Thor stood his ground, blocking Loki defensively.

Tony broke first, laughing until he was doubled over and braced against the wall. "What happened?" Bruce asked, trying to remain calm to placate the alarmed professionals.

"There was a bomb!" one snapped.

"Two. A smoke, then a paint," the other corrected. Then he looked to Thor and actually had the audacity to glare. "We have to get him back to the cell, now."

Thor stared back icily and the distant roll of thunder could be heard, echoing deep into the building. The two men shrank a little from the look, and Thor turned his back on them. He murmured quietly to his brother, eyes wide and still dripping paint from his hair. Then he patted him gently on the shoulder and guided him towards the guards. "Lead, we'll follow," he said simply.

They disappeared, and Tony managed to compose himself. "That would be Clint," he said, giving one more small chuckle. "Should have known he was up to something when I found him in the lab." The other two nodded.

"Anyway, Professor Xavier, it was nice to meet you, but I think Tony and I should go find and alternative route upstairs," Bruce said, shaking hands one last time. "I look forward to hearing from you."

"Of course. I'm expecting director Fury any moment now, so you'll hear from me."

Tony grabbed Bruce by the arm at that and started pulling him away. "Come on, I know he's gonna try to pin this on me, let's go." Then Bruce was dragged away, with one final wave back.

Around the bend and midway down the hall they heard a furious, "Who the hell did this?!" and Tony giggled maniacally.\


	11. Chapter 11

Tony and Bruce managed to sneak to the nearest stairwell without Fury catching them, back tracking to the elevator on the next floor up. Once they were safely rising in the mirrored box Tony leaned back on one of the walls with his hands folded in the small of his back, conspiratorially watching Bruce.

"So," he started, Bruce jumping slightly at the suddenness and tone of his voice. "What was with the kicked puppy look earlier?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at him, then looked away, chewing his lip as he thought. "No sense in playing stupid, huh?"

"Not even a little."

He nodded. "I felt guilty," he said after a moment, shrugging as if that explained everything.

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, circling behind Bruce and resting his chin on his shoulder. "I hope you realize I got that much," he sighed, catching a faint smile from Bruce's reflection. "But I meant why?"

"I just-" he huffed, a false start, then took a steady breath and said simply, "We broke him."

Tony nodded and stepped back, crossing his arms. "Yeah," he agreed. "Though that was kind of the point. He is technically a war criminal after all."

Bruce let out a slow breath, not quite a sigh, and turned to lean on the wall, opposite where Tony had been. He braced the heel of his hands on the railing, and spoke like he was still trying to fully grasp the concept himself. "I know… but I don't like it. I don't like being responsible for that look. I know that look, I've experienced that look. I've been broken, and I hate that I'm responsible for breaking someone else. However much he may have deserved it…" then Bruce trailed off, brow furrowed as he stared at the floor, lost in some memory the other man could only guess at.

Tony sighed and smiled fondly, stepping into Bruce's space and reaching up to grab the back of his hair lightly. When Bruce lifted his gaze Tony wasn't entirely surprised to find faint flecks of green in the iris, whatever he'd been remembering having dredged up a protective reaction from the Hulk. "I understand," he murmured then, tapping the center of his chest with his free hand. The resounding clink spoke volumes.

Bruce glanced down, tracing the outline of the reactor with his eyes, then looked back up and smiled softly. "You do, don't you," he stated, then angled his head just enough for their lips to meet. He relaxed his posture and they melded together, moving in perfect synchrony until they were tangled around one another. They stayed like that, kissing with such harmony they didn't notice the elevator had stopped until a cough signaled the doors had opened.

Steve and Clint stood waiting, gym clothes stained with sweat. Clint rolled his eyes and stepped inside, Steve studiously following, and the doors slid shut again. "You know, the term 'get a room' isn't supposed to mean anywhere in the tower. Owning the whole building doesn't change that," the archer said with a conversational tone.

Tony scoffed. "Whatever, Barton. You're just jealous because Phil is still on light activity and you can't get any."

The Hawk scowled at that, and Bruce flicked Tony in the shoulder. "Too much," he warned.

"Well it's true," he grumbled, "when's Phil get the all clear anyway?"

Clint shrugged, brushing off the potential altercation. "A couple more weeks, and even then nothing too strenuous."

"Non-strenuous sex is boring sex."

Clint snorted. "Says the man of a thousand one night stands. You know, some things are better taken slow."

Tony shrugged. "You got me there." Then his eyes drifted past the archer to Steve, who had a flush all the way down to his neck. Before he could tease the other man though he felt Bruce pulling on his shirt, easily dragging his attention away from the soldier as the lift came to a stop. Everyone split apart then, Steve and Clint going to their respective rooms to change, and Tony and Bruce to while away the afternoon in their lab. Bruce seemed inclined to leave their conversation on the back burner for now, and there was work to be done, so Tony would let it rest. At least for the moment. A guilty Bruce was not something Tony was willing to let be for long though.

That evening, with the setting sun throwing the kitchen and living room into long fiery shadows , the Avengers gathered around a massive dining table. It was made of black tinted glass and piled with trays of food. In a way it was to commemorate the first proper night with everyone in the tower, but it was surprising how easily everyone had fallen into using the living area as a gathering point, various members flitting through throughout the day depending on down time. It was all amusingly domestic given the nature of the people involved.

Everyone was seated and served, immersed in their own separate conversations as they ate. Bruce and Tony were discussing the project they were working on, Thor and Clint were laughing over some raunchy joke, Natasha was quiet while she listened to something Steve was murmuring, and Phil was poking idly at his food with his chopsticks while he stared intently at something in his lap.

"Okay, Phil, man, you've got to stop staring at your crotch and eat your food," Tony chuckled eventually. "Bruce is going to start thinking you don't like his cooking."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "No I'm not."

Phil looked up and smiled, shaking his head at the comment. "The food is great Bruce. I'm just reading Loki's dossier." He lifted the folder and set it on the table top in an empty area.

Conversations died then and the attention around the table turned to him, an expectant silence falling. Clint nudged his boyfriend in the shoulder. "I told you you shouldn't bring your work to the table."

The agent glanced over with a fond smile, the kind reserved only for the archer, then looked around the table, moving on to business flawlessly. "I have Xavier's notes on their meeting, his overall evaluation, and recommendations for further attention. Fury has spoken to the board, and it's agreed that I'll be in control of this project, as well as remain the handler for the Avengers team. The gist is you're basically all on glorified guard duty, which I admit is a bit of a waste of talents. But the alternative is Loki being put in a prison cell indefinitely, which-"

"Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen," Clint grumbled.

"Quiet you. It wouldn't be the best route, diplomatically speaking. He was sent here as an opportunity to change, and that's our goal," he said firmly.

Glances passed among the group, then it was like an understanding shifted into place and they were all looking at Phil intently.

"Okay then boss man, brief us. What's his state?"

Coulson flipped through the folder for a moment. "Surprisingly stable actually." Thor arched an eyebrow at that. "I mean he's sane, basically. Really his laundry list is on the shorter side. Bipolar disorder type II, a general blanket of anxiety, but according to Xavier his mind is quite cognitive." He passed around a sheet of the professor's notes for them to read over. "He's not recommending any medication without further observation though, so that's something to keep an eye on."

"Meaning what? We're supposed to be his therapists now?" Tony snorted. "That'll go over well."

"No, just observe, give opinions, note triggers, things like that. Oh, and no tranquilizing," the agent added, giving a few very pointed looks around the table.

"And stay out of my lab," Tony said to Clint. The archer just gave him a blank expression, note even twitching. "I know it was you, I saw you snooping." That got a small smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Does this mean no sleeper holds?" Natasha asked as she glanced over the papers.

Phil sighed and rubbed at his eyebrow. "Anything where he loses consciousness should be avoided." He dropped his hand from his face to take the paper back and closed the folder again, then looked back up at his group. "We're foregoing the rest of his therapy though. His first day out is tomorrow. It was a decision Fury made on Xavier's advice, and I'm inclined to agree with them on the matter, so I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."

Clint huffed and sat back in his chair, tapping his sticks idly. "What are we supposed to do, throw him a welcome party?"

"Just try to keep the torture to a minimum."

"Light torture only, got it."

"Is this a twenty four hour thing," ever practical Steve asked. "I mean, he has to sleep eventually. Does someone really have to watch that?"

"Locking him back in a cell every night seems counterproductive," Phil said, more to himself than as an actual response.

"I could furnish one of the Hulk-out rooms," Tony suggested. "Can't be opened without a command, more convenient than a cell."

Phil stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "That'll work actually. Can you get it done before tomorrow night?" Tony nodded. "Good. I'll draw up a schedule for… babysitting duty tonight and let you all know the rotation tomorrow. Everyone meet up here at nine tomorrow morning and we'll go from there."

There were nods and murmurs of assent, then the conversation turned back, business carefully tucked away and devolving into casual matters once again. The trays of food were emptied with extreme efficiency, and Natasha and Steve carefully pushed Bruce out of the way to do the dishes, allowing him and Tony to slip away early.

"You volunteered one of my Hulk rooms," Bruce said once they were in the hall, walking slowly, arms brushing.

Tony nodded and smiled. "I thought you'd like that. I was hoping it'd make you feel less guilty."

Bruce glanced over at him with a soft smile. "It does. Thank you." Tony beamed, and they walked quietly again. But as they stepped into their room and Tony began to shimmy from his clothing, preferring nudity in their privacy, Bruce continued. "You realize though that this means he'll be in here."

Tony stopped mid movement, standing in nothing but a pair of burgundy boxers with his arms out for balance and his pants pooled around his ankles. Then his arms dropped with a smack. "Shit," he said, with conviction.

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle. "Right?"

"Well at least its soundproof," he grumbled, kicking his jeans away in a flurry. "Can't exactly put him in the lab. And it's really only temporary. Hopefully. Why are you still wearing clothes?"

Bruce glanced down, then back up with a shake of his head. "I have less of a penchant for nudity than you," he pointed out, hands already going to the buttons of his shirt.

"Well, indulge me. What do you want to watch?" He was already spreading out on the couch, grabbing his tablet to decide on a movie for the night. "How about Back to the Future?"

Bruce laughs at that and is already down to his own underwear, deciding against pajamas with the consideration that he'd be plenty warm pressed up against the other man beneath the couches throw blanket. "It works for me."

They coordinated for a while, then ended with Bruce's head pillowed on Tony's chest, just below the reactor, and the opening credits began to roll. They ended up watching the entire trilogy, and Bruce distantly recalled falling asleep around the time Doc was getting a door slammed in his face.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I just don't see why you can't be mature about this. You of all people should understand his motivation for attacking me." Phil said levelly, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching his Hawk pace anxiously while he changed.

"Oh, I understand, and I would have done the same in his situation, but I don't think it's unreasonable to want a little revenge."

"Clint, I just need you to be professional. You don't have to be friends, that would be ridiculous, even by my standards. Just keep the pranks to a minimum. And no more paint bombs."

Clint jerked his t-shirt down, somehow having managed to get into his night clothes and pace at the same time. Then he was striding over to Phil and purposefully climbing into his lap, sealing their mouths together in a clear possessive display.

"How about this," he breathed once they'd broken apart far enough. "I'll agree to that if you agree to something for me." Phil hummed in instruction for him to continue. "I don't want you to be alone with him. Not even for a little." Phil blinked up at him, surprised. "Please. I don't trust him."

He nodded. "Okay. I won't be alone with him. But I do have to interact with him you know."

"I know, but thank you. I just…" He sighed. "He almost took you from me."

Phil tightened his arms around the archer's waist and pressed his face into the crook of his shoulder. "I know, but I'm here."

"You died." Clint pulled back, hands coming up to frame Phil's face. "Your heart stopped. You were dead. For all intents and purposes, he killed you. I know you're here, but it was too close for comfort. Please don't begrudge me feeling protective."

Phil blinked up at him, then smiled warmly. "I don't. I won't be alone with him, promise."

"Thank you," he murmured, then pressed their lips together again.

Eventually Phil nudged him, gasping and laughing breathlessly. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

"Can't have that," Clint sighed, shifting to flop onto his back on the bed. "You need help with the schedule?"

Phil smiled. "If it's not too much strain for you."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce woke to fingers being carded through his hair and wonderful warmth pressed to his front. He hummed contentedly and opened his eyes slowly, bending his neck back to look up at Tony, finding his eyes still closed but a soft smile on his lips. "We're on the couch," he croaked after a moment of gazing up at him.

"Mhmm. You fell asleep last night, didn't want to wake you."

"Last night?"

"Last night. It's almost eight."

Bruce groaned and pushed himself up with a symphony of popping. "Comfortable couch, I suppose," he said, stretching his arms above his head to earn a few more crackles.

"Only the best," Tony replied, stretching like a cat before flopping down in a clear reluctance to get up. "We have to baby sit a war criminal today," he huffed.

"We do indeed," Bruce conceded with a breathy laugh. "So, first, second, or together?"

"Hm, together I think. Groping you in the shower before work will make my day better."

"Getting groped by me," Bruce corrected.

"Well, if you insist."

The managed to actually get some bathing done, then dressed and eventually made it to the living area. Steve was already there, perched on stool at the counter with a cup of black coffee, reading an honest to god paper newspaper.

"How the hell did you get that?" Tony asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he went.

"Miss Potts has them delivered," Steve said absently while he finished an article. "I just can't read newspapers on a tablet. There's hot water in the pot Bruce."

"Oh, thanks," he smiled, dropping his own tablet on the counter to fish out a tea bag, something fruity he figured, and poured steaming water over it. He brought his cup out to the balcony then, dragging Tony with him to leave the captain to his newspaper in peace. They leaned by one another and enjoyed the morning air, sipping their respective drinks in silence. When Tony pulled him in for a kiss it was like blueberry coffee.

They couldn't stand the cold air for long though and stepped back inside, just in time to catch Natasha wandering off with an arm full of breakfast stuff, dressed in little more than an oversized black t-shirt down to her thighs and sleep tousled hair. Neither of them missed the lingering glance their leader gave her, and Tony almost burst out laughing when Steve realized they were in the room again and blushed down to his collar. As it was, he had more self-control than that, and simply managed a small snort and refrained from saying anything.

Bruce though, always full of random surprises, chuckled outrightly. "Is that what I think it was?"

Steve blinked at him, startled that it hadn't been Tony to ask, and was at a loss for a reply. Scowling was usually reserved for the billionaire's snark. Eventually he just gave up and sighed. "That obvious?"

"Yeah, just a little. It's actually not surprising though." Bruce slid up onto one of the other stools. "I was reading up about Peggy Carter the other day. You apparently have a type."

Steve gave him a baffled stare, then actually laughed. "Yeah, I guess I do." But then he sighed and leaned his arms on the counter. "It's probably not gonna happen though. I wouldn't even know where to start. And I'd hate to make working together awkward by trying."

Bruce stared at him for a moment while he thought. "You should talk to Clint," he said. "He's her best friend. If anyone can help, its him."

Steve smiled sheepishly. "I have, he won't leave me alone about it. He thinks I should just go for it and ask her out. That seems ridiculous though."

"Why is it ridiculous?" Tony interjected. "Master assassins need love too."

Steve snorted. "Easier said than done."

Bruce nodded. "Enough people know now though. Eventually she's going to find out." His eyes widened at that. "Don't worry, we'll hunt down Clint and help you figure something out. Later though, tonight. It's almost nine."

The captain's smile then was full of relief. "Thanks Bruce. You too Tony, for not teasing me."

"Hey, even I know certain limits."

"Could have fooled me."

"It's all a clever ruse to make people underestimate me."

"Mission accomplished."

Not long after than Agent Coulson appeared, followed by Barton, Romanoff, and Thor. And shockingly enough, a noteworthily rumpled Loki. "Sooner rather than later," he shrugged in way of an explanation.

"A heads up would have been nice."

"Heads up."

"Ha ha, very funny."

Thor guided his brother to the sofa, sitting down next to him, while Phil sat on the edge of the coffee table. The two agents took up positions standing behind the couches, and the rest wandered over to find spots. That was apparently as professional as things were going to get, and Phil settled a tablet on his lap, fingers skimming easily over his work. "I have a preliminary schedule drawn up, so from here its simply input and arguments. I'm sure there will be plenty." He looked around, gathered their assent, and continued on. "So, Tony and Bruce, it's logical that one of you take the first and last shifts, respectively."

"I'll take the early one," Bruce offered. "I'm usually up anyway."

"Guess that means I'm closing shift," Tony laughed.

Loki stared expressionless while they bartered with his time, eyes flitting back and forth between faces until they'd come to a finalized schedule. The only time his expression changed was when he realized Thor wasn't mentioned, and he turned his head questioningly towards his brother.

"They believe our connection is compromising to my discretion" Thor explained simply.

And Loki actually smiled, followed by a barely-there snort of amusement. But he didn't speak. He simply tucked himself back in to the couch and pulled his baggy t-shirt closer around his frame.

Everyone glanced around at one another and exchanged a few somewhat baffled shrugs, then Clint broke the silence. "Anyhow, Bruce, I think now is when we all abandon you," he said.

"Right, right, go about your days," Bruce shooed them off. They all vacated, Steve actually managing to drag Thor away from the couch with promises of sparring, and left Loki exactly where he'd started. Tony lingered, following Bruce back to the kitchenette while he fixed himself another cup of tea.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, trailing a hand over his lower back and casting a glance towards the fallen god.

Bruce smiled and handed Tony a travel mug, undoubtedly filled with coffee. "I think I'll manage. Don't you have to go furniture shopping?"

"Could just let him sleep on the floor, just for a night. He did throw me out a window…"

"Tony," Bruce laughed.

"I'm joking. I'll get him a bed. Might even throw in a table. I'll see you later though," he said with a quick peck to the other's lips. "Come down to the lab when you're done."

"Will do," he agreed, watching him flit away until the elevator doors finally closed. When he looked back he found Loki watching him, one eyebrow quirked. "What?" Loki blinked and looked away, and Bruce followed his gaze until it landed on the pristine stone flooring. "Oh. Uh, yeah…" He didn't know what to say, and Loki just kept staring off at the floor blankly, so Bruce sighed. "Are you hungry?" He was met with curious green eyes. So he took that as a yes and started making breakfast.

He had no idea what kind of foods Loki liked, and figured he wouldn't get an answer even if he asked, so he made what was typical for his own breakfast and simply doubled it. A short while later he set a bowl of chopped fruit on the coffee table , along with a plate of whole grain toast and a fresh cup of tea, this one green and lightly sweetened. Bruce sat on the floor opposite it with his own spread, deliberately toying with his tablet while he popped a strawberry slice into his mouth, trying to put the other at ease.

Loki stared at the food for a moment, then up at Bruce, then carefully slid to the floor to mimic his posture. "I didn't know what you would like," Bruce said after a moment of watching Loki stare down at the bowl. "It's fruit," he said encouragingly. Then he added, with a certain amount of understanding, "You know you'll have to speak eventually."

Loki simply stared at him until he sighed and looked back down at his tablet. He was going over some specs for the lab yesterday, something about ultra-miniaturized arc reactors, even smaller than the one in Tony's chest. It had phenomenal potential for-

"I have never had midgardian fruit."

It was said quietly, but Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin at the suddenness of it. He swallowed his mouthful of toast to keep from choking on it and washed it down with a gulp of tea. "Never?" He asked with a cough. Loki shook his head. "But you've been here for weeks, what did you eat?"

Loki lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "Bars and canned liquids, for protein."

Bruce nodded. Tony did that sort of thing, too busy working to bother with full meals, barely pausing long enough to inhale a meal bar. "What did you eat on Asgard?"

Loki narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that. "Why does it concern you?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to force you to eat something you don't like. I cook for everyone. If you tell me what you like, I'll make it.

Loki blinked and frowned, looking away again down to the bowl. "Fruit is usually one of my first choices. But I am wary of foreign plant life" He reached up and stabbed a pink cube. "What is this?"

Bruce smile. "It's a piece of watermelon." He tapped open Google and pulled up a picture.

"That looks nothing like this," he scoffed. Then Bruce scrolled to a picture of one bisected. "Oh."

"Wait until you see a kiwi," Bruce chuckled. "That's the green one." He got up and went to the kitchen.

Loki almost spit out his mouthful when Bruce returned and dropped the tiny furry ball into his hands. "I was not aware plant life grew hair," he said once he managed to choke down his bite. "Is all midgardian fruit so disguised?"

Bruce spent the rest of the morning explaining different kinds of fruits and vegetable to Loki and ended up having Jarvis make a very long and thorough list of produce to get on the next grocery drop. It was interesting to see Loki's subdued excitement.

Then Clint was there, slipping in quietly while Bruce watched Loki paw through the fridge, occasionally asking what a certain item was. "What's going on?" He asked, making Bruce almost fall off the stool.

"Whatever happened to not startling me," he gasped. Loki stood up straight at the sound of the archer's voice, letting the fridge drift shut.

"I trust your self control. What's with the fridge?"

"Lessons in earth food. I was just telling him certain cultures eat bugs."

Loki wrinkled his nose.

"Crickets are good, they taste like nuts" Clint offered. "I got it from here though if you want to go down to the lab."

Bruce nodded his thanks. "Uhm, good luck," he added, said as much to Loki as it was to Clint.

He found Tony in the midst of a one sided argument with dummy. "I'm just saying, you're way too overzealous. You don't have to- oh hey gorgeous. How'd things go with reindeer games?"

Bruce sat in a stool opposite him. "Surprisingly well actually. Don't be alarmed by all the fruit, by the way. There's going to be a lot."

Tony laughed. "I know, I get notified of updates to the grocery list. Its Pepper's not so subtle way of reminding me to eat. I'm sure she's confused about why we're suddenly purchasing a farmers market worth of produce."

Bruce snorted. "More than likely."

They worked through the afternoon after that, both getting thoroughly caught up before their dinner reminder chimed promptly at six. They ran into Natasha and Steve in the elevator, with Loki leaning on the wall behind them. Natasha was as deadpan as always, but Steve had a small line between his eyebrows showing his worry, and Loki looked downright tired.

"Trouble in paradise?" Tony asked.

Steve scowled. "Loki apparently won't talk."

"Hasn't said a word since I've had him. Clint said the same thing," Natasha explained.

Bruce's brow furrowed, but he decided not to comment on his time. Instead he said, "It's understandable. Give him time."

"It's possible Clint may have traumatized him more," Natasha said. "He seemed... self-satisfied when he dropped him off."

"I wouldn't put is past him," Tony replied.

"I'll have to talk to him about that," Steve sighed.

Then the elevator came to a stop and they funneled out. Bruce decided on meatloaf for dinner, something hearty and comforting he figured, and set to work. He put Tony to work peeling potatoes for the side, and Natasha volunteered her salad making prowess. By seven the potatoes were whipped to buttery perfection, the meatloaf was settling on the counter, and Steve had dragged Clint off to the side for a quick murmured conversation. If the gesturing was anything to go by it went... better than it could have, but not flawlessly.

"Any compromises reached?" Bruce asked when Steve came over to help ferry plates of food to the table.

Steve huffed. "He agreed to keep the pranks to once a week."

Bruce couldn't help but laugh at the captain's obviously disgruntled tone. "It's better than nothing." Steve just grunted and took his seat.

For a time the room was filled with nothing but the sound of clinking utensils and glass touching glass. It would have been awkward if it weren't silence for the sake of eating. It was noticeably more relaxed though when conversations began to flow, and Bruce breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he noticed Loki, sitting to his right between him and Thor, had done little more than poke at his food and nudge it around the plate. Bruce sighed and Loki glanced at him with a frown.

"Eat," Bruce instructed.

For a moment Loki scowled and seemed stubborn enough to refuse. But then he huffed and took a quick bite, casting Bruce a 'there, happy now?' look.

Bruce smiled and went back to his own food.

After dinner, after everyone had dissipated, and after the dishes had been done, Loki, Bruce, and Tony sat around the living area, unsure what to do next. Loki couldn't be brought down to the lab, and Bruce didn't have any strong interest in working by himself, so Tony jumped on the opportunity to have some company against Loki's perpetual silence. Bruce was still confused by the change in his behavior from the morning, and decided to mention it to Tony.

"You did make it sound like he was more lively when we talked earlier," Tony mused. "It's ironic though, I would have guessed he'd be most afraid of you, not most comfortable."

Bruce snorted. "Me too. But I'm glad he's not, it wouldn't have helped my conscience."

Loki huffed then, from where he was sitting in one of the arm chairs. "I am in the room," he pointed out.

Tony froze in the middle of his response to Bruce. "It can speak," he said in alarm. Loki glared, and a long stretch of silence ensued, Tony glancing helplessly at Bruce and gesturing for some guidance.

Bruce smiled and shook his head, then looked to the raven haired man. "Did you want anything for dessert? Something sweet?"

Loki pursed his lips. "I have heard of something known as chocolate that we do not have in Asgard."

"I don't think we have any," Tony said. "Pepper doesn't like me to live on candy."

Bruce was already heading for the door though. "You two wait here."

Tony blinked after him, then at Loki. "He doesn't normally do that..." Loki just arched an eyebrow.

They weren't alone long though. Bruce returned a few minutes later with a small stack in his hands. When he got closer Tony saw that it was a stack of Hershey bars. He handed one to Loki. "Do you seriously stash chocolate? I thought only women did that."

Bruce ran a thumb over a silver edge thoughtfully. "Hulk likes chocolate. Sometimes it helps to calm him down."

Tony gaped. "Seriously?" Bruce smirked. "You realize that could have certain benefits."

"I'm not into food sex, Tony."

"It's not food sex, just a little chocolate sauce. Maybe some flavored lube..."

Loki just sat cradling the bar in his palms while he watched the exchange. "This is safe to ingest?" He finally interrupted.

"Yes, it's safe, just unwrap and eat. And Tony, quit being deliberately traumatizing."

Tony scoffed. "It's not traumatizing. He probably doesn't even know what lube is."

Loki paused with the brown wrapper peeled open in his lap. "Lube, lubricant. An oaf could understand your meaning. And it is hardly difficult to guess at what its use is." Then he went back to the wrapper, carefully folding open the foil.

Tony gaped at Bruce, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Does this mean I have to use discretion now?" Tony complained.

Loki spoke up again, downright talkative now after spending most of the day silent. "I am not a child, and I could tell you tales that would make even you blush. So rest assured, the effort is unnecessary."

Tony practically grinned and finally flopped down on the couch perpendicular. "Stories, huh? Do tell."

"No," Loki said flatly. "Am I to break this?" He asked then, holding the bar gingerly. Bruce nodded and he did so, busting off a rectangle. He took a hesitant bite and chewed it slowly. Then nodded. "We have nothing like this back home. It is good."

Bruce smiled and plopped himself down on the couch next to Tony, who promptly wiggled and dragged until he was practically in the man's lap and curled under his arm, completely uncaring of their audience.

But they did have an audience, and after a while of munching his chocolate bar and watching them inquisitively, he asked. "You two are mated?"

They both snorted. "Mated?"

"A bonded pair, lovers."

"No, this is just how guys act here. Cuddling, kissing, no biggie. They don't do that in Asgard?"

Bruce sputtered and laughed. "Can you imagine if we didn't correct that? He might actually try to kiss someone."

"God, what if he tried to kiss Clint?"

They were both laughing hysterically at that point. "That would be horrible," Bruce gasped. "Imagine what he'd do. Oh my god, imagine what Phil would do."

That started a fresh wave of hysterics.

By the time they'd caught their breaths and managed to stop giggling, Loki was wide eyed and looked like he was ready to run for the hills. He'd abandoned the rest of his chocolate and the panicky little rise and fall of his chest threatened hyperventilation.

Bruce sobered quickly. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Yes, Tony and I are together. No, men don't usually act like this casually with one another. Please, don't randomly go about kissing people. Now, focus on taking deep breaths."

Loki froze then, eyes still a little wide, like he hadn't even realized he was breathing so shallowly. Then he let out a long, slow breath, drawing back in just a slowly, until it was a steady natural rhythm. Then he nodded. "I have no interest in kissing anyone," he said finally.

Tony snorted. "Kind of a shame. You've actually got a bizarrely large fan base. I doubt it'd be difficult to get some if you really wanted."

Bruce frowned. "What?" Even Loki looked confused.

"Oh yeah," Tony continued. "You should see the website. Don't go getting any crazy ideas, but quite a few people seem to agree with your motives. It's not really that surprising though, even the worst dictators gather followers."

Bruce nodded slowly. "True, I suppose."

Loki frowned and took another careful bite of chocolate. "Humans are strange creatures."

"That they are," Bruce agreed.

After that they turned on the TV and acquainted Loki with films. He asked question throughout and seemed remarkably fascinated that such a large culture could develop around something that was almost exclusively for entertainment.

"See, Loki, that's why you could never have lead humans, you don't understand what keeps us placated," Tony said. Loki just hummed noncommittally in way of a response.

Then it was time for bed. They showed Loki to the hulk-out room, and Bruce was surprised to find it fairly lavishly furnished. There was a bed, long enough to accommodate Loki's height, a night stand with a lamp, a desk with a leather chair, several stacks of books and what appeared to be sketchpads and writing utensils.

"Blame Pepper," Tony said. "It's not in her nature to leave a guest in discomfort, even if that guest is a criminal. Not bad for a prisoner though, if I do say so myself."

"Am I a prisoner?"

The question caught Bruce and Tony off guard. It seemed so obvious, but there were so many grey areas. Loki had never actually been sentenced, and as far as the law was concerned he was a free man. But that left the question of immigration and citizenship. Did interplanetary life get green cards. Thor hadn't been made to get one, but it was generally accepted that saving the world came with honorary citizenship. It was a confusing matter, without a doubt.

Finally Bruce just shook his head and decided to address those questions at a later date. To Loki he said, "yes, technically. For now you're in shields custody, and that makes you a prisoner."

Loki just nodded resolutely and went to the bed, sitting on the edge curiously. "Thank you for your hospitality," he said eventually. "I know I would be in a cell otherwise."

Tony a Bruce both nodded. Then they all said their goodnights and the heavy door swung closed, bolting Loki in.

"Well... that was weird," Tony said finally as they climbed into their bed.

Bruce nodded. "A little. Certainly not what I expected."

"Mmm, come here," Tony instructed.

Bruce smirked and crawled closer, settling on his stomach with his head on Tony's chest, tracing the reactor with light fingers. Tony's fingers tangled idly in his hair. "I'm glad he's not afraid of you though," he murmured. "You don't need that."

"I'm glad too," Bruce sighed. It had been a long day, and his eyes were already drifting closed. "Love you, Tony," he mumbled, already fading out.

"Mm, love you too, Bruce."

Then they were both gone, lights automatically dimming away long after they'd already fallen asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

"I can't move like this Bruce."

A sigh. "That's kind of the point."

"If my legs get cramped it's your fault," Tony grumbled.

Then a shift, and a hand touched his hip. "And I would take full credit. Now stop complaining."

He lifted his head enough to send a half felt glare over his shoulder. "You have me in possibly the most embarrassing position possible, buck ass naked, and all you're doing is staring. I think a little impatience is warranted."

Bruce's gaze flicked up for a moment and he smiled. "Put your head down, and quit wiggling or I'll have to resort to ulterior measures." Then the hand was removed.

Tony huffed and lowered his head back to pillow it in his arms, listening intently to his boyfriend move around. Then something clicked. "Ulterior, what ulterior?"

Bruce actually snorted at that. "They're ulterior for a reason," he murmured.

"Are you going to fucking tie me down?" Tony asked, voice slightly raised, but head remaining put.

"Probably, if it comes to that," came the low response. " Which I'm almost sure it will." Tony shifted his weight impatiently at that and was met with a firm grip on his waist stilling him. "Tony," he said warningly.

"Come on Bruce, do something," he whined.

"Tony please, I told you what I'm trying to do-"

"You gave me one word, and at this point I think I'm entitled to a little more explanation."

"I'm trying to isolate what triggers the Hulk's response, if there's even one sole thing. Starting with sight."

Tony frowned in thought. "Sight? As in-" Then his head jerked up. "As in sights that excite you?"

Bruce simply smiled. "I like you like this."

Tony dropped his head back down with a surprised laugh. "I think I'm a little scandalized. Ass in the air is what does it for you, huh?"

"One of the many things, yes."

"Man Bruce, you must have kinks I haven't even scratched the surface of yet."

There was a pause, then "Yes," said with clear amusement. "Okay, so now we're doing sound isolation."

Tony ticked away in his head waiting for further explanation, then huffed. "What, am I supposed to ask?"

"…Maybe."

"Well, what exactly does sound isolation entail then, Bruciekins?"

"I'm going to need you to touch yourself."


	13. Chapter 13

The second Tony registered he was free to move he whipped around, sprawling out to find Bruce's back to him. He laughed breathlessly. "Okay, sound isolation. Bruce glanced back enough for Tony to catch the smile and nod, then he was pressing the fabric of a tie to his eyes and knotting it carefully behind his head. "So just do what I'd normally do?"

"Pretty much, yeah…Though out of curiosity, I thought you were a playboy? Why masturbate when you could get someone to sleep with as easily as asking Jarvis to call them."

Tony shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows. "Sometimes an orgasm isn't worth the physical intimacy with a near stranger." Bruce gave an understanding hum. "So, let's start then, yeah?"

It's a strange feeling being left to your own hand when you were expecting someone else's something else. Not nearly as satisfying, Tony grumbled inwardly. Then he scooted around for a second to get more comfortable, grabbed the lube (my own damned optimism), and started in earnest.

The first sound was the wet slick of his hand moving over himself with the aid of lubricant, more for the purpose of gaining even coverage than for real pleasure. But Bruce's head cocked at the sound, turning just an imperceptible bit to hear better. Then he slid down in a firm stroke and back up, sighing thankfully at the first real pressured touch he'd had since Bruce had tripped him onto the bed. Then his hand was moving steadily, motions even and controlled for now. He thinks about Bruce while he does it, the things he's done, could do, wants to do. And a breathless moan escapes him, short, just as long as an exhale takes when he's breathing so rapidly, but Bruce shivered at the sound and his shoulders tense.

Tony's probably three quarters of the way to coming, making the occasional whimper or groan while he worked, when a thought popped into his head. For a brief second he dismissed it, then remembered the purpose of this exercise, and decided why the fuck not? "Give me two seconds," he gasped, then scrambled off the bed to run to the closet.

In reality it took seventeen second to get, but then Tony was bouncing back onto the bed. Bruce couldn't see it to react, but that didn't matter, because his head whipped around the second buzzing filled the air. "Hey, you said do what I'd normally do," Tony defended before he could even get a word out.

Bruce stared blindly for a second longer, then turned back around and waited patiently.

Tony smirked, then went back to the task at hand (ha, puns). It wasn't anything big, just more for the feeling of penetration and vibrations, so he didn't bother prepping himself for it. He gave it a generous coating of lube, arranged his legs right, and started easing in. He didn't go fast, but he wasn't slow either, pressing inside in a steady burn, moaning throatily when it reached the end. "Fuck," he gasped, head dropping back for a second to catch his breath, just relishing the burn as his body got used to being opened so suddenly. He watched Bruce while he waited, easily catching the strain across his shoulders and arms, head tilted intently towards Tony. The exhibitionist in Tony was unendingly excited about this. Then he flexed his legs and settled more, and the slight angle change shifted the vibrator just right to make Tony gasp and move into action.

Tony moved in tandem, working the vibrator in and out with one hand while he stroked himself with the other with almost a feat of coordination really, but the sounds are a symphony. The most prominent sound is probably the vibrator, noise fluctuating enthrallingly whether it was inside or outside of Tony; then there was the slick sounds, two different kinds, one of Tony's hand moving over himself, and the other the toy working in and out; then of course every little noise Tony made was a fascination in its own, just baffling how he could speak so eloquently at any other time but can't manage more than sobs and broken moans now. But the best part to Bruce was listening to him move on the sheets, imagining what each rustle meant as he shifted on them, the drag of skin on fabric as his back arched, the way his nails scrape over the threads when he clutches them desperately. And then he realizes Tony is coming, breath coming in hitching moans, nails tearing at sheets while he writhes with it. Then he finishes off with a gasped curse, and collapses onto the bed. Bruce finally exhales with the small pouf of air forced out of the sheets under his weight.

Seconds tick by in silence while they both calm themselves. Then Bruce is slowly pulling off the blindfold and turning to see the aftermath.

Tony is sprawled on his back, one arm bent above his head, the other flung out to his side. He looked sleepy but pleased, and a streak of come rest almost on his collar bone. "That's how you normally masturbate?"

Tony laughs. "Yes, but it's been a while, so it was more… potent than usual."

Bruce chuckled a little shakily at that. "Good to know," he said while he turned and crawled up the bed to settle cross legged near Tony's shoulder.

The billionaire looked up at him curiously. "What's the prognosis then, doc?"

It took a minute for Bruce to formulate to right words, and Tony waited for him patiently. Then he sighed. "The problems stack. Sight made him curious, but not really enough to worry me, a lot of things make him curious. So I stopped looking and he lost interest. But any sort of moaning would probably get his attention, but recognizing the sounds as coming from my mate just makes his reaction more immediate." Bruce paused for a minute, chewing at his lip a little as he thought, then shrugged a little. "Then there's the matter of smell. The noises bothered him because I couldn't see you, but as soon as I could smell you he realized what was happening. And when he gets that he gets… well, pushy, really. See, to him you're as much his mate as mine, so I don't blame him for having an interest in the sexual aspects of things. But the problem is there is not one thing about it the triggers him." Bruce sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair in a scratching motion. "I kind of suspected as much though," he said eventually. "But at least it made for a fun afternoon."

Tony smiled a little, then reached up and poked him in the rib affectionately. "I'm sorry it didn't work."

Bruce looked down at him with a small smile. "Me too."


	14. Chapter 14

The first time Loki being in the tower was ever really a problem was the day he saw Tony naked. Extensively so. Like walking around the room naked with the music blaring while he read his morning updates after a shower. Really it's his own fault he didn't notice the man slumped down on the couch reading, because it was common knowledge now that after three weeks Loki had earned the right to move about freely during daylight hours. And Bruce had specifically talked to Tony about letting Loki use the living area in their room, being as how it was just outside his door, and the communal area tended to make him tense. So it was his own fault he turned the music on before even exiting the bathroom, and that he didn't hear the small startled noise Loki made when he just pranced by buck ass naked.

And that's when Bruce walked in, returning from a run to the kitchen for lunch, to find Loki sitting deer-eyed on the couch while Tony paced around aimlessly in front of the windows.

"Jarvis! Turn the fucking music off!" he shouted, and a half beat later silence rang around them, Tony turning to look at him with an absolutely speechless look on his face. "What the fuck, Tony? Can't you fucking look before you just drop the towel?" Bruce continued, tone still at yelling even though the music was low. It was probably the cussing that was making Tony's jaw hit the floor. Either way, he went on. "This is exactly why I talked to you about this first. We have a PTSD victim with any number of unknown triggers, you can't just go blaring fucking death metal and running around with your junk on display." Then he sighed and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can you please put some pants on. For fucks sake."

Tony blinked frantically for a second before bounding for the closet. Bruce ignored the mad scuffling and turned to Loki. "You alright?"

He nodded, pushing back his overgrown hair when it fell into his face from the motion. "None of these things were a trigger, as you would put it."

Bruce nodded and pursed his lips for a second, then said, "Could you give us some privacy?"

"Of course," he said, hair falling again when he stood. "I promised Thor we'd have lunch." Then he disappeared in a blur of grey. Bruce gazed at the door for a moment longer, then shook his head and went for the closet.

He found Tony sitting on the oversized dresser at the back of the closet, denim covered jeans drawn up for his elbows to rest on. He looked… dejectedly patient, Bruce thought. Like he knew getting in trouble was an eventuality, so he was just waiting for it. Bruce smiled a little at that, because it was kind of cute.

Instead if addressing it though, he turned the topic. "We need to get Loki some new clothes, he's still in Shield regulation gym wear."

Tony's brain is fast, so it only took a second for the subject change to catch up, now that he knew to expect the abruptness. So he unfolded his legs slowly and sat on the edge. "Uhm, sure. We can do that. I can order him some. Or we can take him out, if you'd prefer that."

"I don't have any plans for that afternoon, and I'm just guessing you don't either," he paused and made this face, subtle, but somehow managed to make Tony recall exactly what it must have looked like for Bruce to walk in on. "So we'll both take him out." Fuck arguing, it wasn't even a thought on Tony's mind at that point, and Bruce knew it.

"Okay, just let me get dressed, I forgot to put on underwear." He hopped off the dresser and shimmied the jeans off, and Bruce leaned patiently against the door, watching Tony dress hyperactively with a smile on his lips. Then the billionaire was clothed and in his face. "So, you're all right I take it?"

Bruce frowned. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? You fucked up, but when have I let it upset me before?"

"You were angry though."

"…Yeah?"

Tony took a step back then and cocked his head, resting a hand on his hip curiously. "Doesn't that seem even a little bit revelatory to you? You were angry, and the Hulk wasn't even a factor on your mind."

And somehow, it actually had missed him. The two just didn't even touch in his mind in the heat of the moment. And even now the Hulk was sitting idle, not bothered in the slightest. Like Bruce's anger hadn't even touched him. He shivered. "That's weird."

"No shit." Tony wanted to pop him in the forehead, then apologize with a can of V-8. "You're still okay?"

"As I ever am." Bruce shrugged. "Want to go hunt down Loki and go?"

"Yeah, if you're ready. Ooh, can we take the sports car?"

"What do you think?"

"No then? What about the limo?"

"…That one's okay."


	15. Chapter 15

The shopping trip went nothing like Bruce had imagined; he'd expected pouting and sullenness at best, and hadn't even bothered to formulate a worst case scenario, waiting to just take the hits as they landed. But surprisingly enough Tony and Loki ended up acting civil towards one another, even… friendly at points. So Bruce was able to breathe.

He ended up sitting off to the side, watching Tony move charismatically around the shop, bringing Loki pieces of clothing before the other was even able to look around. They'd decided to go to Tony's tailor's shop, a smaller store away from the heart of the city with an environment most likely to keep the ex-god calm, and he'd managed to get the store to themselves for the day, and Tony was apparently having a blast.

Loki huffed in annoyance. "I am capable of dressing myself, Stark, so if you'd please stop throwing clothes a-" Then a lump of brown fabric enveloped his head and his words muffled to a stop.

"Try that on, you need a coat." Then he disappeared into the depths of the shop again, and Loki just pulled it off his head and glared at it.

"I don't see why," he griped, uncrumpling the poor article of clothing. "Though this one isn't awful," he murmured.

Bruce smiled fondly, thinking about Tony's enthusiasm. "Just bear with him, he likes dressing people."

Loki rolled his eyes and shrugged the coat up his shoulders, and immediately removed it once seeing it near his skin. "I will, though I believe our tastes differ," he sighed, setting the coat on what would be the reject chair and grabbing another piece from Tony's pile-o'-suggestions.

"Oh, pretty positive they do," Bruce chuckled. "Do you want to look around by yourself?"

Loki's eyes flicked up from the buttons he was working on at that, and Bruce just barely caught the nervous glint there before he looked back down again. "No, this is fine."

He frowned, and would have pursued the expression further, but then Tony was bubbling back in, buried behind an armful of clothes, and Bruce lost his opportunity. Tony tumbled the pile onto the chair with a small breathless laugh. "Sal is pissed at me, says I'm destroying the place. You should see his back room. So how do you feel about denim?" He held up a pair of dark wash jeans in example.

"I have no preexisting opinions," Loki said, but his eyes were locked on the pile (which had quickly toppled half to the floor) with a horrified look on his face. "You expect me to try all this on?"

Tony dropped into his own seat next to Bruce and nodded, grinning. "Of course I do. I'm paying, so you're like a really big Ken doll right now." The scathing look Loki shot at Tony could have melted plastic, but he snatched the jeans up and, along with the shirt he'd been unbuttoning, jerked the privacy curtain closed. After a moment of listening to shuffling movements and rustling fabric it reopened and Loki stepped out.

The shirt was a rich shade of midnight purple and tucked into his jeans close to his waist. Both emphasized how the time since the invasion had altered his physique, paling his skin further and waist narrowed in clear loss of muscle tone. "What?" he asked, voice purposefully neutral.

Bruce glanced over to Tony, who was staring back at him with raised brows, so he looked back a Loki and smiled apologetically. "You're thin, and a little washed out, it's just surprising is all." He frowned a little then, and seemed to deliberate for a moment before speaking again. "I think I'll start putting more red meat in your diet," he finally concluded.

Loki huffed a small breath of amusement before turning to the mirror in consideration. His head tilted and his scowl was visible in the reflection as he placed his hands on his waist, fingers curling easily around his sides and almost meeting. "I see what you mean," he murmured. "I hadn't noticed, with the size of the other clothes." Then he looked back over his shoulder. "Yes or no?"

Bruce blinked, finally looking away from the cut of Loki's waist to his face, noting how the deep purple richened the green of his eyes, and nodded resolutely, "Yes."

"Jeans too," Tony added. "They're good for your chicken legs." And that earned yet another glare.

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern, and the keep and reject piles grew until the mountain Tony had made had finally been demolished. Loki breathed an audible sigh of relief when it was over, chased by a quiet, "thank you," when the final piece was being hauled away, redressed in his greys for the drive home, seeming almost comforted by the cotton. "These will make enjoyable sleepwear now," he said, and Bruce laughed easily.


	16. Chapter 16

After a few months of everyone cohabitating in the tower the holidays began to roll around, plans being laid around mid-October. Tony put on a trick or treating benefit at a local children's hospital, and the entire Avengers team went in masquerade attire. Loki stayed home, and when Bruce and Tony got back they watched old horror movies and introduced him to a wider variety of Midgardian candy. After that plans for thanksgiving rolled around, and it was decided almost unspokenly that it'd be a quiet affair with Bruce and Steve handling the cooking.

The week before rolled by with quite preparations, brining the turkey, prepping what could be done in advance; then the morning of came and it was like controlled chaos. Everyone decided to spend the day hovering in the communal area, watching the two cook periodically while movies from Steve's childhood played quietly on the big screen, for nostalgias sake. Everyone got a little bit tipsy on homemade apple cider, and hovered around the table excitedly when the spread started being set out. Seats were taken, and then the turkey was finally placed in the center, rested with piles of meat already cut off, and hungry praise filled the air.

Thor and Loki were probably the most delighted by it, saying it reminded them of feasts back on Asgard. Bruce was glad he'd got a twenty five pound turkey. Their appetites, combined with Clint, Bruce, and Steve meant there were hardly any leftovers. Afterward they laid around the living room and watched the television in contented food comas.

When everyone finally trickled off to bed Loki stood to follow Bruce and Tony, pausing to be hugged lengthily by a full and drunk Thor, before the trio stumbled to their rooms. They lingered in their own living area, watching recaps of the parades on the news, Tony leaning against Bruce on one end of the couch, Loki with his feet tucked up on the other.

And somehow they fell asleep, all three of them. They woke around five thirty the next morning and they saw Loki off to his room before stumbling into their own bed, Tony succeeding in pinning Bruce down long enough to have him squirming and to leave a bruise just peeking out of his collar line. He finally pried the billionaire off when a noticeable tinge of olive hit his skin, and they settled back in for a few more hours sleep. When they woke up again just after eleven none of them said anything about the night spent on the couch, and they had a late brunch of turkey sandwiches.

It was as they were cleaning up, Bruce washing while Loki dried, that he noticed Loki spot the hickey on his collar bone, eyes freezing on it momentarily, then flicking up to Bruce's face, before finally back to the dish in his hand. He turned away quickly to hand the dried plate off to Tony, who was blissfully oblivious, and Bruce took the opportunity to shake the moment off, so when they met again they were both back to normal.

Afterward Loki excused himself, saying he'd like to spend the day with his brother. They let him go, and both spent the afternoon in the lab, working quietly alongside each other.

The first snow hit late in the first week of December, making their steps crunch as they all filed out onto the roof to see Thor off. He was spending a week back on Asgard, and they all watched him disappear through the new portal on the roof. Loki lingered watching the sky for a few beats before sighing and turning to follow them back out of the cold. They spent the rest of that day making homemade egg nog, making a spiked batch specifically for Tony, and the simple act of work seemed to calm Loki after seeing his brother leave.

The Christmas tree was brought in that week, and everyone helped decorate, Loki mostly watching fascinatedly while perching on a stool near the windows. Some of his weight had come back after hefting up his diet, but his color was still faded, practically iridescent with the pale snow light shining through it, the pink glow of his blood creating a faux blush. The tree was topped with a silver star, and rather than hassle with anything, Steve just hefted Natasha onto his shoulders, and she easily craned up and dropped the star on top.

Thor returned on schedule, and the Christmas shopping was completed on everyone's own terms, so the week of Christmas rolled around unexpectedly fast.

And then it was the morning of Christmas eve, and Bruce woke with the solid weight of a super hero on his chest, and had the sudden realization that he'd been in a mostly functioning relationship for six months, and actually had a foreseeable future. He couldn't remember the last time his life had been more stable.

He couldn't stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I skipped a big block of time here, and I was originally reluctant to do so, but I'm just trying to get the plot moving. I have a goal, I just keep getting lost in the little things, so I figured the easiest fix was just to get to the appropriate time. The implication of course being that nothing eventful happened within the time skipped. I've also been wanting to make a chapter that features just Phil and Clint and Steve and Natasha, so expect that coming up soon-ish. Oh, I've also put a bit of a time marker on things here. I don't know if it says/implies anywhere what time of year the invasion happened, so I'm just taking it as having happened around mid-June, and that math is pretty easy to do.


	17. Chapter 17

The realization that Phil really was healthy again didn't quite dawn on Clint until the morning he woke to find the older man sprawled against his side, murmuring lowly in his sleep with a very noticeable hard on pressing into his hip. He smiled to himself, sleepy and pleased, and nudged his lover awake. He came to with a lengthy stretch and a yawn, settling back against Clint's side again once done. "What's up?" he croaked.

Clint smirked devilishly. "Pretty slick moving, but don't think I wasn't awake long enough to feel that."

It may have been just a tinge to the skin, but it was a blush, and Clint was pleased with getting any reaction. The past few months, surgery aside, Phil's libido had been waning due to the pain killers he was on. But he'd stopped them two weeks ago, and the occasional twinge of pain was well worth seeing the mischievous glint in his archer's eye.

The first touch, just a light brush through the fabric of his pajamas, was enough to make him gasp, sensitive from going so long without, and Clint shivered in pent excitement. He licked his lips and his eyes flicked up to hold Phil's in a serious moment. "Tell me if we need to stop," he ordered, to which Phil gave a sober nod, and they left it at that.

He settled down between Phil's knees, leaning forward to shimmy the band of his pants down enough to reveal the tip of his cock, watching a bead of precome gather and slide down. It was acting on instinct when he leaned down and licked the drop up, Phil shifting on his elbows in his surprise. "You don't have to do that," he offered, the breathless tone only detracting a little.

"I assure you, I'm not doing any of this because I feel I have to." Then he dipped back down and slid the flat of his tongue from base to head, and Phil wheezed on his reply, toes curling in the sheets. When Clint finally swallowed him down it didn't even cross his mind to try and guide him, which he'd likely refuse to take anyway, not to mention his hair wasn't long enough to grab anyway. But even if it had been, he wouldn't have, content to let Clint do whatever he saw fit to do, helplessly rushing towards his end at the other's masterful hands.

But he was stopped, orgasm held off with a firm grip, and Clint was sitting up again. "Breath."

Phil blinked, dazed at being cut off so abruptly, but did as he was told and took in several steadying breaths, forcing the immediacy away to watch his Hawk climb off the bed. He stripped down to his underwear before retrieving the necessities from the bathroom. When he stood back at the edge of the bed he tossed the lube in the center but held up a foil packet questioningly. Phil stared at it before grasping the question. "That's up to you."

Clint rolled a shoulder. "We both know the other's clean, so I'm okay with it if you are."

Phil nodded and couldn't deny the excited lurch in his stomach.

Clint grinned and tossed the condom somewhere over his shoulder, then dropped his underwear and climbed onto the bed without preamble. Phil got a good look at his body as he crawled up, then a perfect view when Clint settled on his waist, skin scorching warm where they touched. He slicked a good amount of lube onto Phil's length, then carefully started to lower himself down, but a firm grip on his waist stopped him. "Aren't you forgetting a step here," he asked worriedly.

Clint smiled fondly and rolled his eyes. "Please, between that wake up and what I did in the shower last night, all I need is enough lube and I'll be fine."

Phil looked a little dazed at that, but nodded. "If you insist."

Clint grinned, then repositioned himself and pushed down, earning a loud startled moan from the man beneath him, caught off guard by the abrupt pressure. Then the majority of Clint's weight was resting on him, grinning down at him triumphantly. "Awesome."

Phil rolled his eyes and shifted to brace them both a little better, rubbing at the ridge of hipbone beneath his thumbs. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured.

Clint smiled softly and bent down to run his mouth over Phil's jugular, bracing himself on the bed above his shoulder and rolling his hips in the same motion. Phil held on to his hips and marveled at the controlled strength behind his movements, sliding his palms down his thighs as they went. "Clint, I-,"

"Just come when you feel it," he interrupted, bracing a hand on his stomach and sitting up a little so he was leaned more at a forty five. But Phil followed him up, sitting them both up and pulling Clint further into his lap with a firm hand in the small of his back.

"I like you closer," he explained. The move nudged the handler just a little deeper, and Clint moaned from the extra stimulation.

"It's okay, I like this," he gasped, crossing his legs at the ankles behind the other's back and pulling him even closer. "It's good."

He hummed and they started up a shallow, heated rhythm. Phil held onto the curve of his ass with one hand and kept the other pressed against his back to keep them flush, wanting to feel the drag of Clint's dick against his stomach. He started making this small noise every time Phil pushed back in, pace excruciatingly slow, like a small tortured gasp. It was slowly turning into a whimper the longer they went, and his moans were beginning to join in, mingling with Clint's in the space they were sharing.

The slick against his skin grew, and Clint's muscles spasmed regularly around him, making everything an unpredictable cacophony of sensation, everything ready to snap on a hairs notice. And when Clint finally did it was spectacular; every muscle seemed driven to try and meld them together, legs and arms tightening, and his, voice crying out from so close, rang wonderfully in his ears. He cursed frantically and twisted desperately Phil's grip, and his own orgasm echoed the archer's. He shook in the steady grip of strong arms, and trembled slightly even after it had passed, not opening his eyes until he was pushed back to the mattress.

"We're sleeping for a while longer," Clint said without room for argument, and Phil wasn't inclined to. It was chased by a wide yawn.

"I wasn't planning on getting up yet anyway," Phil stretch-groaned in return.

Clint smiled blurrily from his pillow. "Good. Love you."

"Love you too," he murmured, then tugged the blankets back up, prepared to sleep until the afternoon.


	18. I haven't forgotten about this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation.

I haven’t forgotten about this, not one bit, life just keeps getting in the way. Pretty much right after posting the last chapter my laptop bit the dust. But I’ve since acquired another computer, so that’s no longer an issue (just sad I couldn’t get what I’d been writing, even if they were just small starts). 

Anywho, on top of that I’ve also moved three times since December, and went to school briefly, and other life type things getting in the way. But I’ve done a thorough re-read on the story, and wow I suck at continuity, but I’m doing this live (ie: no beta, which I would welcome any offer for, by the way) so errors and typos abound unfortunately. But I’ve also got plans for some stuff to make up for skipping such a large span of time. These ideas may or may not include:

Tony’s break up with Pepper?

Thor and Tony drinking mead?

Loki’s session with Xavier?

Steve and Natasha’s first date?

Halloween benefit/costumes? Post movie watching with Loki?

Thanksgiving?

Decorating the Christmas tree?

Christmas shopping, from various perspectives?

I’m also open to suggestions/requests, I’m sure I’ve neglected something that would be fun to write. I’m really sorry for neglecting this for so long, and I want to make up for it. I’m terrible at posting regularly, but I’ll try. I’m gonna say the 12th, I’ll have one of these put up by then.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was hard to write, and I'm not entirely sure if it sucks or not, but hopefully I got the idea of this across well enough.

Xavier sat across from Loki at a plain sheet metal table, bare lighting casting stunted shadows that gave the environment a far too harsh feel. But there was little to do for the circumstances, so he turned his attention instead to his subject, whose attention he found he had in return. Loki watched him with obvious mistrust, and Xavier wondered, as he did whenever meeting someone, what was hidden behind the guarded expression. 

“I’m Charles Xavier,” he finally broached an introduction. “May I call you Loki?” 

He nodded slowly but narrowed his eyes. Xavier smiled pleasantly and continued unperturbed.

“Has anyone explained what I do, Loki?” A small shake in response. “I’m a mutant, mutants being humans who have developed certain abilities that other humans have not, due to a mutation of their genes. My ability is reading minds.” A panicked expression flitted across Loki’s face, but he held up a hand placatingly. “Rest assured I have no intent or desire to use this without your consent. Your… keepers have asked me to look into your mind to determine the nature of your psychosis, if there is any at all. But I have made my stance clear, I refuse to use my abilities on someone helpless and unwilling.”

Loki looked down at that, to the cuffs around his wrists, linked to a loop in the floor. Then his eyes flicked back up and gave Charles a disdainful look. “Why not, certainly you think I’d deserve it. Everyone does.”

“Even if that were the case and I did feel that way, it would go against my own morals. Also, I was under the impression you’ve already served a sentence, in your own world.” 

Loki stared back, weak malice fading immediately at the mention of his sentence, and settled back in the chair, making himself small. 

Charles frowned at the immediate change in demeanor. “I think one thing you will find vastly different between our culture and yours is the nature of punishment.” A small bit of curiosity was regained at that. “Your world focuses solely on pain and retribution. Here though, we strive for rehabilitation, if at all possible. Fixing the cause.”

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Because those who do bad are not always themselves bad people. Our lives unfortunately, inevitably lead us to mistakes and offer far too many opportunities to change for the worse. We want to give the opportunity to change for the better.”

Loki shook his head. “It is a foolish belief to think everyone can change.”

“What’s foolish is to think that everyone wants to.” The trickster’s eyes held his for a long moment, but Xavier’s knowing gaze proved to be too much, and he looked away. “I’d like to enter your mind, if you’ll let me.”

Loki dragged his gaze back to the man, the mutant, and hesitantly nodded.

 

At first he was nothing. He felt nothing, saw nothing, remembered nothing. There was a certain bliss to it, peace from knowing no other way. Then memories began to trickle in, dread following close behind, and he became aware of his body piece by piece, until he opened his eyes and saw the sky. 

It was a strange implacable color, like dusk and sunrise meeting, but he couldn’t stare at it long. He couldn’t tell if it was changing or not. But when he pushed himself up to look around it felt like the same maddening uncertainty. The air felt close, and if he closed his eyes it was like he was inside a small room, crowded in by something big on all sides. But he wasn’t, he was surrounded by dirt, miles of dirt, soft to the touch and free of any impurities like pebbles or twigs. There weren’t even hills on the horizon, in any direction. And the longer he stared at the horizon the more it blurred with the sky until he lost sight of it entirely. 

He climbed to his feet and looked around himself at the emptiness, trying to find a landmark, something to gain his bearing should he lose it. 

This is your world… 

A whisper, quiet on the thick air, and he froze. He was alone, he’d seen that he was, it had to have been his thoughts.

…look what you’ve made for youself…

He whipped around and almost missed it, the ghost of a figure in the distance. A shadow that fades as he stared at it, leaving him alone again.

Built on lies…

…can’t you feel it?

He shivered and turned until he saw it again, lingering longer this time, long enough for him to discern translucent lengths of hair flowing in its own wind. He watched her until his vision blurred the muddled colors together and he had to rub at his eyes, gone when he looked back up. 

Let me show you…

He followed the voice again, still ethereally quiet, echoing unnaturally in the stale environment, turning to find not the figure but what appeared to be a small sword stuck in the ground a good distance away. He glanced around nervously as he made his way towards it, constantly looking over his shoulder, until he stood before the only object visible in this world and found it to be a small wooden practice sword. 

Reluctant to touch it, he crouched down for a closer look and frowned. 

You remember…

He flinched at the suddenness but growled in retaliation. Of course he remembered it, it was exactly like the ones he and Thor used when they learned swordplay as children. This one even had his symbol carved near the handle, two tangled serpents, biting one another’s tails. It was a reminder of the beginning of his inequality with Thor, when he fell into shadow, obscured by Thor’s golden light. Thor had bested him easily that day, and every day after that, gloating and lording, thriving, until Loki made his own way in his studies with magic. 

…lies…

He scowled and stood tall. What lies?

The ones you tell yourself…

With that his vision changed, fading into the same memory he’d just had, only far more vivid, and he watched the younger copies of himself and Thor. He was on his back on the stones, having been knocked down for the last time that day. He watched from the side of the courtyard, and found himself standing opposite… Odin? He didn’t remember the Allfather being present that day, in his memories it had been their instructor. 

But that wasn’t right, was it? It had been Odin, teaching, watching, praising his eldest. And as the young Loki stormed off, barely concealing tears, the older Loki realized another falsehood in his memory. Thor was hardly gloating. In fact, he looked abashed, and concerned, starting after Loki, only to be stopped by his proud father. Stopped from going after his brother. This whole time he’d remembered Thor so terribly incorrectly, and he couldn’t hide from his own guilt.

His vision snapped back to normal, and he was left starring down at the play sword, surprised to find it ripped from the ground and splintered. A lie he’d told himself his whole life, that Thor relished besting him, shattered. 

And that was how his time in exile went. The ghost would whisper, pull him toward something that had appeared in the dust, something tied to a memory. And every time it would tear him apart, make him relive it, make him doubt how he’d remembered it. His whole life, falsehoods to be tore down, and there was no rest. 

There was no way to tell how long it went on. At one point he tried to run, bolting towards the blurred horizon until his legs gave out and he was left on the ground, gasping for breath. And when he looked up it was as if he’d gone nowhere, still surrounded by the desolation of his memories, slowly filling the bizarre landscape with destruction. A dozen lifetimes, thousands of years of memories, laid out for miles around him. In the end he simply obeyed the shadow, wandering hollowly to wherever he was guided, waiting, hoping for it to be over. He couldn’t even remember how long his life had been anymore.

When it was done everything he’d thought he’d known had been torn apart and rebuilt, countless times.

He didn’t know what truth was anymore.

He doubted everything.

 

Xavier was left dazed as he pulled away, the quality of the Asgardian’s thoughts and memories leaving him in an echoic daze for a moment. When he finally settled himself he found Loki starring at him with a lost, desperate look. Before the professor managed to speak, Loki gasped a quiet stutter of breath and asked him in a small voice,”Does Thor still care for me? I know you can tell, if you talk to him, you can tell if his emotions are genuine. Please tell me if there’s any emotion left for me in him. He said he did, after New Mexico, before I let go, but he hasn’t this time. Not before my sentence, and not after my return.” There weren’t quite tears, but there was a desperate glimmer in his eye.

Charles gave a small nod, understanding of Loki’s raw emotions after reliving such memories. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. Loki gave one nod and slumped back in the seat, emotions drained. “I believe you deserve a chance to change, Loki. Do not throw away the opportunity.”

He showed Loki to the door then, thanking him for such a unique opportunity, and called Thor in after settling his brother in the waiting area, taking note of the other occupants before closing the door. 

Thor sat with nervous energy in the chair the other god had just vacated. “How is he?” he asked as Charles wheeled into place. 

“His experiences have left him like unformed clay, its important his environment nurture this.” 

Thor gave a relieved nod. “He will get better then?”

Xavier nodded slowly. “If he truly wants to.” Then he gave Thor a calculating look and leaned forward. “May I ask an odd question?” Thor nodded, and Xavier held his hand out, taking the Thunder god’s in his own in a simple way to feel his emotions without fully invading his mind. “Do you still love your brother.”

Thor’s brow furrowed, somewhat taken off guard by the question. “Of course, I do not trust him, nor do I agree with him, but I will always love him as my brother.”

Xavier smiled and sat back. “Good, he’ll need that.”

Thor nodded reverentially and stood. “Thank you professor, for you reassurance.” 

“Of course, it was a wonderful opportunity,” he said, pulling the door open to show him out. 

The guards were on the smaller god as soon as Thor exited, ready to bring him back to his cell. He gave Loki a knowing look in answer to his question, and was relieved when his motion was understood. It left Loki glancing at Thor with a subtle mix of confusion and amazement.

He spoke to the two other men for a few moments, thinking about the next opportunity he’d have to meet with Dr. Banner, then was met by Xavier. He handed the spy a sheet of notes he’d compiled after the session, documenting his opinion of Loki’s state and a recommended course of action. The outcome surprised Fury, and he left him with the conclusion that they’d be changing Loki’s intended treatment plan, making changes immediately. 

He smiled as his car pulled him away from Avengers Tower, left exhausted by pleased with the days outcome.


End file.
